As I Grow Up
by Thunder's Blade
Summary: Bella Swan is abused by a drunkard of a father as a child. She is found and rescued by the Cullens. Edward is her brother, whom she loves, and could always count on, but what if he starts to love her in a different way? M for abuse and later adult themes.
1. Chapter 1: Found

**AN: So, is this a surprise? Yes, I'm starting another story. And I swear on my iPod that I _WILL_ finish this! **

**In this chapter (and most likely the next), Bella is a young child and is abused but then gets adopted by the Cullens. Have fun reading this! **

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[BPOV]

The packet weighed down my hand as I forced myself to place one foot in front of the other, to make my way back to my home, step by heavy step.

Grades. The terrible, awful, despised G word. Grades.

I drew my sweater around me firmly, and zipped it up. It was unusually cold for November. Leaves blustered around me in swirls, the ever-present cloud cover blocking out any warmth the sun might have offered.

My only hope was that Charlie wasn't home yet, and that I wouldn't have to deal with his wrath; it was a foolish hope, though, I had to admit. When was the last time he'd been absent when I arrived home from school? A while ago.

I suppose the blame of my impending demise could be pinned on Ms. Hayes, my teacher, who'd handed me my report card. A young teacher, impatient and snappish, teaching a group of children—second graders—simply wasn't a good idea. And as I was the kind of child who was slow to respond, slow to act, quick to think but slow to follow orders, I was the kind she'd despised.

Oh, I knew I was intelligent beyond my age. And when the time came, I knew I'd apply my intellect. But right now, I was in second grade. I learned big words from books out of the teen section. I knew lots of things. I knew how plants grow, I knew the names of all the countries involved in World War Two, and I knew how babies were made. Oh yes, I knew plenty.

Ms. Hayes didn't understand. According to her, I was a child who repeatedly disobeyed orders, was slow in the head, and needed to be tested for ADHD or possibly dyslexia. All of which she considered to be defects in a young child.

And hence, my terrible marks.

First quarter of the school year, and I was already doomed.

When the quaint, old house, paint slowly weathered to a shade of gray, came into sight, it was all I could do not to rip the papers in my hands and bury them at the base of the tree right here, right now.

Perhaps Charlie wouldn't notice! In his stupor, perhaps he'd have forgotten today was Grades Day; he may be drinking himself into a coma! My face turned up into a faint smile at the thought, then chastised myself for wishing that on my own father (albeit a drunkard, but my father nonetheless).

_Step. Shuffle. Step. Shuffle. _I made my way up the stairs, eyeing the door with apprehension. Pulling one strap of my purple Hello Kitty backpack down, I unzipped the big pocket and slid the folder in.

_Click-click-click-click. _The teeth of the zipper closed with an almost deafening sound.

I pressed the doorbell, and was greeted by heavy, thudding footsteps.

The door was flung open and my father, Charlie, looked like a madman. His eyes were bloodshot, he reeked of beer, and he had a bottle in one hand.

I bit my lip hard. "Hi, Dad" was the only thing I was able to say. This was the first time in two weeks I'd seen him so drunk.

He held his other hand out, kicking the door shut with his other foot. "Report card," he demanded. "Now!"

Oh, no, darn it, oh no…even in his present condition, he remembered.

I could do nothing as my hands acted of their own accord, unzipping my backpack, holding the marked papers out to him.

He yanked them from me unceremoniously, and proceeded to skim through the pages, sipping his beer.

I knew I was in big trouble when his hand began to shake and crinkles formed in the paper of the packet, right where his fingers pinched the pages.

He flung the papers toward me, and I held my hands up to protect my face from a potential paper-cut. "Would you like to _explain_to me how there's a D on your report card, young lady? Hmm?"

"Um, Dad—"

_"I want an answer!"_

"Ms. Hayes doesn't like me!" I defended myself. "She thinks I'm stupid and she just doesn't like me so she gives me bad grades!" I crossed my arms, an act of defiance. "It's not my fault!"

We were still standing by the door. Charlie was leaning against the stair banister, his beer bottle trembling against the wood. "Maybe it's _true,_then! Make yourself more likable. Make her like you. Make yourself smarter. I can't have such a disgrace to my name! These kinds of grades are _not_ acceptable in the Swan family!"

I was the disgrace? Excuse me?!

"You'd better get your game up," he warned me. "I _don't_ want to see these grades ever again, you hear me?" The words were delivered in a roar of noise pollution and alcohol. He emphasized his statement by slamming his beer bottle against the railing, where it promptly smashed and leaked in a frothy torrent onto the carpeted stairs.

Charlie glanced at the smashed bottle in his hand. Before I could react at all, he had flung it at me. At my head.

It struck its target, and I went down.

[/BPOV]

*** *** ***

[NO POV]

Charlie Swan stomped out of the house in a daze. He wasn't sure at all what he was doing as he stepped into his cruiser and backed out at an alarming speed. His foot slammed on the gas as he drove wildly, tumbling this way and that, through the small neighborhood and onto the highway.

Ah, the highway.

A few daring drivers beeped at him when he wove in and out of lanes, but he just flipped them the finger. Reaching over, he turned on his lights and the siren, and sped past everyone else.

_Finally_, he thought. _No more distractions, no more people, and certainly no more interference from that worthless daughter of min—_

That was his last thought.

_Worthless daughter of min—_

*** ***

Several minutes later, another officer came to the crash scene. He winced internally as he surveyed the crash scene. The driver's side of the car was completely destroyed when it swerved and turned a complete one-eighty off the road. The lights were still flashing, the siren still wailing.

"Hello?" he called, loudly, though he was sure no soul could possibly be alive under the wreckage. He donned his thick gloves and rummaged through the torn metal and shattered glass.

His hand grasped a clump of dark brown hair, and he shuddered.

Far away, the sirens of the arriving ambulance wailed, increasing steadily in volume.

The officer withdrew his hand, brushed it on his pants, and shoved it into his pocket. He stared with revulsion at the tuft of hair sticking out amongst the glass. The air bag was out, but punctured.

The ambulance stopped in front of him and he silently moved out of the way. Three people, two men and a woman, hopped out and cleared the rubbish away from the body in no time. They held up the head of the corpse, and the officer was met with the torn, bruised and bloodied face of—

"Officer _Swan_?!" he exclaimed.

"Dead," the woman said shortly.

Now that he knew who the victim of the crash was, the officer drew nearer. He was still a foot or two from Charlie Swan's face when he smelled—

"Booze," he said. "Send him over to the hospital and test his blood alcohol."

One of the paramedics had ran back into the ambulance and pulled out a stretcher. The two other placed the body on the stretcher and wheeled it back into the ambulance. They drove off.

The officer sighed as he climbed back into his own cruiser. He would call for a tow truck to dispose of the remnants of the car.

_What a shame,_ he thought. _This is what the police force in Forks has come to._

*** ***

Charlie Swan went to hell after his death. Hell was a place he had no belief in…until he arrived there.

All day and all night, as he was burned by flames that pained but did not kill him, he was tortured by the tantalizing aroma of beer…wine…thirty-year-old scotch…open bottles floating right above him, just out of his reach.

Such was God's punishment for this particular alcoholic.

*** ***

Back on earth, in the country called the United States of America, in a small town named Forks, located on the Olympic Peninsula of the state of Washington, a young girl was bleeding, unconscious, beside her own closed door.

A boy named Edward Cullen and two of his siblings, Jasper Hale and Alice Cullen, all with false identities to blend in, happened to drive past that particular street—yes, the street where the girl was bleeding.

Those three juniors, in high school, weren't really kids.

Aberrations, if you will. Mutants, perhaps. Whatever they were labeled as, only one thing was certain; they weren't normal.

Not normal at all.

Which is why the Edward Cullen, the driver, leaped out of the car as soon as he smelt the blood.

_Oh, the blood._

_Delicious fragrance._

_Nectar for the living dead._

_Blood._

The car was still crawling along, and Jasper Hale reached over to yank the key out of the ignition. The car stopped, in the middle of the road. Then, he and Alice Cullen followed their brother Edward into the house.

[/NO POV]

*** *** ***

[/EPOV]  
The fresh, innocent blood was torturing me. It ignited a torch in my throat, a torch I haven't felt for years.

I couldn't get into the house fast enough. I am uncertain if I acknowledged the door or not; I only knew that one second I was sprinting across the lawn, and the next, the door was behind me, laying in splinters.

I saw the child.

She was young; six or seven, I guessed, by her looks. Her dark, wavy hair was stained by blood, and the smell of alcohol reeked in the house. A few shards of brown glass lay in a pool of the revolting liquid called beer.

The stink didn't matter; the blood did.

All these years, I have repressed who—and what—I truly am. A monster, feeding off of blood. A parasite. A vampire, yes, a vampire.

I bent my lips to the child's scalp, licking the blood away. My tongue danced; my throat sang. Never had human blood been as delicious as this.

Her heart still beat, I knew that. Shallow, quiet breaths escaped her. I licked the blood out, drop by drop, wanting to savor the taste.

Pressing my cold lips to a gash on her forehead, I began to suck. The blood flowed freely, and I flicked my tongue along the wound, not wanting a single drop to escape.

A figure barreled into me from the direction of the door.

I looked up, annoyed, to be met with Alice's fierce stare. _Idiot, idiot, idiot! _She thought at me. _Look at the kid! She's, what, seven? And you were sucking the blood out of her!_

I glared at her. "Alice, let me—"

"You're not going anywhere," she scolded. _He prides himself on drinking the blood of criminals, _she thought grumpily. _And he attacks a little kid._

"Hey," I said. "I don't drink from criminals anymore. You know it's only animals for—"

"Yeah, yeah. You _weren_'_t _just drinking from a girl. A little girl. A seven-year-old. I'm totally convinced."

"Would you stop interr—"

"Shut up."

Jasper had arrived and was silently picking the kid up. Only then did I realize that I'd heard nothing.

Nothing.

Unconscious humans' minds are often the most annoying; they can remember nothing, they say, but their minds blur with color, sounds, and things, until it becomes one screaming ball of confusion.

It somehow always evades their memory, I thought grimly.

But there was nothing.

"Alice, I can't—"

"Hear her. Yeah, I figured as much."

"You…what?"

She glanced at me, and then sent me a vision.

_The girl survives. When she speaks to our family tonight, I listen raptly and my face holds curiosity and genuine interest, because I have no idea what she is going to say next, or what she wants to say._

"That's…." I barely spluttered that out. I'd never been caught so speechless before. "No. There's some mistake. She can't hide her mind from me! It does not happen. Does not exist!"

She was quiet for a minute. _How would you know?_

How would I know?

…well, I don't.

My reply was interrupted by an unsteady, dangerous power surging through Jasper's mind. He had taken a small breath, just a whiff, accidentally, and being the newest vegetarian, he found himself in a position very much like mine when I'd smelt the blood.

Alice sighed and had Bella away from Jasper in an instant. I fought the urge to leap forward, to breathe. The warm heat, the beautiful perfume of her blood was eating at my _skin_ now; the icy layer tingled, as if wanting nothing more than to leap forward and end her heartbeats.

"Since you boys are just such outstanding models of vegetarianism," Alice spat at us, "I am going to drive her back to Carlisle, and you two can take a nice long run out, and contemplate your actions."

Jasper stayed silent, though his fists were still clenched tightly.

"Yes, Mom," I mumbled.

Alice glared at me. _We'll talk later, _she told me. And then she was gone, tearing away from us.

I sighed. "Yes, she's right about one thing, though…we should go run. Maybe hunt a little."

And we headed out, away from the aromatic house, and into the woods at top speed, invisible in our haste.

[/EPOV]

*** *** ***

[BPOV]

Bright lights.

_Bright lights…._

A white ceiling.

Voices beside me, muttering.

Unfamiliar voices.

_Where am I?_

"Oh, you're awake, dear!" a distinctly feminine voice exclaimed, close to my ear. I tilted my head to see a woman, mid-twenties, perhaps, smiling at me. Her hair fell in caramel waves, and her eyes were gold.

Gold?

Yes, gold.

Golden.

So strange.

I felt light-headed, and the woman patted my hand. "It's okay, dear, Carlisle sewed up that nasty gash on your head. It looked pretty awful, but now it's good as new!"

Her skin was cold…poor circulation, maybe….

"Good, she's awake," a man's voice said. I tilted my head, and saw a doctor walking toward me with a small flashlight in hand. He came over to me with a friendly smile, and I saw those same strange eyes on him.

Weird.

"Open your eyes wide, please," he said, and aimed the flashlight's beam into my eye. I fought the urge to squint, and he moved to the other eye briefly. "Good. You seem to be recovering well."

My arm twitched, and I immediately realized that I was not on a stretcher or a hospital bed. It was too comfortable.

"Where am I? It doesn't feel like a hospital," I muttered.

"Oh, sweetie," the lady said. "You're in our house. I'm Esme Cullen, dear. Carlisle is my husband, and he's a doctor. I'll call in two of our kids. Emmett! Rose! Alice!"

I heard footsteps, and a dark-haired boy and girl came through the door. The boy was very tall, and looked huge. Like a bear. He probably played sports a lot. The girl was, by contrast, tiny.

The boy smiled. "Hey! You're up! I'm Emme—"

"Emmett," the doctor—Dr. Cullen, I should call him—hissed reprovingly. "Not the best idea, considering her condition."

The boy froze, his arms in the air. My brain registered that he'd been trying to hug me, but I just felt woozy and couldn't care less. I closed my eyes.

"Aw," a high-pitched voice said. "You wore her out, Emmett!" I sensed a shadow cross over me, and I opened one eye. The black-haired girl was hovering over me, a brilliant, toothy smile on her face. "I'm Alice!" she said happily. "Rosalie's in the garage, sulking. Don't mind her, all right?"

I just nodded.

"What's your name?"

I used my arm to push myself up into a sitting position. "Bella. Isabella Swan," I muttered.

"Swan?" I heard Dr. Cullen say, before he mumbled something incomprehensible. I might've been mistaken, but I thought I saw Emmett nod, out of the corner of my eye.

"Come on," Alice said cheerfully. "You have to be hungry. Or thirsty. Do you think you can walk?"

"I…I think," I said, without confidence.

Esme, having remained by my side quietly throughout the whole conversation, spoke up. "Be careful, Alice," she warned.

"Oh, I will," Alice promised.

I scooted off the bed and tried to stand. A rush of dizziness engulfed me and I felt myself stumble.

"It's just vertigo," Alice said.

Emmett came over and picked me up. "Alice, really? You think you can lead her down the stairs? You're barely taller than she is!" he joked.

I decided that I liked Emmett. He held me against his chest and I buried my face into his sweater. He strode down the flight of stairs, holding me securely. The rest of them remained upstairs.

"Don't you worry about a thing," Emmett whispered in my ear. "You didn't even have to go to the hospital! Isn't that cool? Our dad's a doctor. He stitched you up as soon as Alice brought you in."

"Alice? But how did she find me? I was in my house!"

"Ah, that's something you'll have to ask Alice," he said, grinning. "I'm not exactly sure."

"And wait, Dr. Cullen's your dad? But he's really young!"

Emmett laughed. "Just call him Carlisle. And he and Esme—that's the lady who talked to you first—they adopted us. Carlisle and Esme were married and decided they wanted a bunch of us around."

"Hmm…"

He carried me over to their dining-room table, and sat me in one of the chairs. "Let's see…" he said, peering into the refrigerator. "We have some pop here, if you want it…Sprite and Mountain Dew. I can make you a sandwich if you want, or there's some frozen pizza. Your choice."

"Pizza, please. And I just want water."

"Coming right up."

I made myself comfortable in the cushioned dining-room chair. Emmett rejoined me after I heard him put the pizza in the oven.

"Hey, do you know who did this to you?" Emmett asked, pointing at my forehead.

"My dad did. He was drunk," I said, before I fully registered what I'd just said. I slapped my hand over my mouth, keeping myself silent.

"Your dad," Emmett seethed, his expression suddenly angry, before it turned back into a smile. "And is your dad Charlie Swan, by any chance? I just heard that you're Bella Swan."

I nodded. "He went raving mad when I got home," I mumbled. "And I bet he still thinks I need to be tested for ADHD or some other mental 'deficiency', he calls it."

"Your dad's dead."

Those words were delivered in a flat tone of voice, and I looked up to see Emmett avoiding my gaze.

_Your…_my. _Dad…_my dad's Charlie. _Dead…_

"Charlie's _dead?!_" I screeched in horror. That couldn't be. One minute he threw the beer bottle at me, and the next….Well, I actually didn't know what he did.

"Rosalie—my, um, my sister—she went down to the police station. She learned that Charlie Swan was killed when he crashed into a tree by the highway. He was drunk."

"Oh," I murmured.

He was still watching me oddly. "What?" I finally snapped.

"Nothing…it's just that…aren't you going to…."

"What? Cry? I suppose a good, dutiful daughter would be crying herself silly at this point, but to be honest, I can't really care about Charlie," I snapped. "He's drunk all the time and he makes me feel awful. And my mom died, too, so I guess I…I…I don't have anywhere to go. But anything's better than seeing Charlie again! I mean, he gave me this!" I jabbed a finger at the bandage on my forehead.

Emmett looked away again, and I immediately regretted my rude words. "Sorry about that."

He smiled. "How old are you again? Seven? Eight?"

"Seven."

"You sure?"

"Yes," I said. "Why?"

"Because you throw around some words that most seven-year-olds don't know. You're pretty smart," he complimented me.

"Um…thanks," I said lamely.

The timer beeped, and Emmett rose to retrieve the pizza from the oven. It looked _tantalizing_—I think that means delicious; I haven't checked the dictionary yet—with browned cheese at the edges and pepperoni and sausages and onions and so many other delicious things in the melted cheese. He handed me a cup of water.

"Dig in," he said.

I was gobbling up the slice of pizza like a child who had gone without food for a week when the door opened and two other boys stepped in. Men? I couldn't tell how old they were. They both stopped and stared at me.

Another door opened, somewhere else in the house, and a beautiful girl stepped in. She was tall, and had shining, golden hair. She looked at me with an expression that made me lower my eyes uncomfortably. The expression held a mixture of wonder, hate, and plain distaste.

I switched my gaze back to the two boys, who looked like they'd just rolled around in a mud pile. They looked at me strangely. One of the boys had curly-ish, wavy-ish blond hair—I guessed that he and the girl who'd just walked in were related, maybe. His features were sharp and square, but there was a sort of calm on his face. The other boy had strangely-colored hair. Copper? No. Mahogany? Nah. Bronze…perhaps. His face looked almost like a girl's, with long eyelashes and pinkish lips.

The bronze-haired boy was the one who looked at me with something like rage in his stare.

Had I offended him some way? No, I'd never even seen him before. He must be looking at the pizza in my hands. He must not like it. And I must be cruising down the River Denial. Of course he was staring at me!

I didn't want to look at him either, so I just looked down at my plate.

Emmett cleared his throat, probably having detected the tension in the room. "Okay! Well, Bella, this is Rosalie, my girlfriend, and these two are Edward and Jasper," he said, grinning, pointing to the tall girl, and then the bronze-haired boy, and then the blond boy.

Girlfriend?

"Didn't you say Rosalie was your sister?" I asked.

I heard a quiet laugh and turned. The blond-haired boy—Jasper—could barely conceal his amused smile.

"Er…well…." Emmett said awkwardly. "Technically, since we're adopted, we're not blood relatives, so we _can_ be in relationships. The law says we're siblings, but we don't have to be just that. Alice and Jasper are together, too."

"Use some simpler words," Jasper suggested, still speaking quietly. "I think you're confusing her."

"No, I can understand," I said. "So you're all…adopted? All of you? Are there any more?" I asked.

"We're all adopted," Emmett replied. "But there isn't anyone else left. This is the whole family, Bella."

"Oh."

I was hungry, but didn't feel like eating, with four pairs of eyes concentrated on me. I looked up again, and realized one thing.

All of the members of this adopted family were very pretty. And all of them had strangely-colored eyes. Gold, amber, pure black…I'd never seen those colors for eyes before.

"Is Doc—er, I mean Carlisle—is he a plastic surgeon?" I felt like I was asking too many questions. Then again, I guess I was entitled to ask them.

"No," Emmett answered. I realized that Emmett was the only one talking to me, since the others seemed to take an immediate dislike to me. "Why?"

"Well, all of you guys are really pretty and—"

I was interrupted by more laughter. This time, the other guy, Edward, joined in, too. Even Rosalie, who seemed icy and full of hate, cracked a smile.

I guess this family—the Cullens—weren't so bad, after all.

* * *

**AN: Did it suck? I hope not, but tell me if it was the worst piece of crap you ever read, okay? Thank you. That will be greatly appreciated.**

**Review please!**


	2. Chapter 2: Conferring

**AN: No yelling please, I'll explain the delay at the end. ENJOY. **

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[EPOV]

"All right, sweetie, let's get you into bed now," Esme said, holding Bella by the hand and leading her upstairs.

My eyes followed them, and I swallowed hard, trying not to breathe while the girl was still on the same floor as me. It was too dangerous, and I thirsted too much. So much that it was irrational.

Completely strange, it was; I'd spent years and years perfecting self-control. I'd failed in my first few years, but I'd come back to Carlisle—and Esme—eventually, vowing to never drink blood from a human again. And that was way back in nineteen twenty-seven. The blood of murderers, rapists and other various felons were always diluted and impure, but satisfied me nonetheless. Now, many decades later, I was in fits and barely being able to hold myself back from feeding on an innocent young girl.

Ah. Her blood, so pure, so young, so _sweet_; I longed to press my lips to her jugular and draw just a small sip. To taste a few mere drops, letting them slide slowly down my throat, relishing the beautiful, burning tang….

_Stop that!_ Alice glared at me. _You're going to attack her in five if you don't get a grip on yourself!_

So I stopped. I didn't breath, I closed my eyes, I tried not to listen to the steady beating of her heart, or the rustle of cloth against skin as she donned the nightclothes given to her, or the sound of her brushing her teeth. I tried to stop thinking.

_Just be…._

We were all seated at the dining-room table; Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, Emmett, Carlisle and I. We waited, silent on the outside, deafening on the inside. And I had to bear the cacophony of their thoughts.

Jasper was the easiest to deal with, being a quiet man. He was scarcely better than I at controlling his undeniable thirst when little Bella was around, and his thoughts were concentrated on other things. He was thinking about how we'd conceal our identity from Bella. She seemed to be an exceptionally perceptive child, if nothing else. She had an abundance of intellect, too. She talked as if she were twelve or thirteen, not seven. I could sense the beginnings of a complex mind. Perhaps like Einstein…well, no, not that complex, but a very bright girl, anyway. Keeping a secret from her would be the ultimate challenge, it seemed. Jasper liked that: a challenge.

Rosalie, Emmett, Carlisle and Alice were all on the same wavelength, more or less; they were all very concerned about the child's welfare. _What about school?_ they thought. _Where is she going to live?_ Carlisle _and_ Esme were thinking about adoption at this point; adopting Isabella Marie Swan and turning her into a Cullen.

I held back a chuckle; for a doctor and a vampire, Carlisle was insane. I could understand why Esme wanted to adopt, seeing as she'd lost her son in infancy, but it _was _impossible, in the long run.

Rosalie's thoughts were twisted with a bit more rage and irritation added, angry with Bella for upsetting the balance of the coven—the "family".

Yes, the swirl of questioning thoughts, assuming thoughts, and curious thoughts about this new human. But there was one voice missing from the twisting, tumbling snowball of mind-power.

Bella's own.

Oh, yes, she puzzled me. No, not puzzled; she was almost like a human experiment to me, a mutant of a sort. How else would a human mind escape my reading? Yet I couldn't penetrate into her head. It was as if there was an invisible wall, impenetrable, a shield blocking my access to her.

Passing strange, indeed.

We stayed still and listened as Esme kissed Bella good-night—the two seem to have gotten along very well, and why not? Esme was a natural mother, so caring and so selfless—and tucked her in. There was no sign of impatience from anyone; we vampires, having endured decades, and soon-to-be centuries, were the best at waiting.

After shutting Bella's door, Esme raced downstairs and took her place at the dining-room table, too.

Carlisle spoke first. "Well."

Rosalie snorted. _Huh. So we're going to discuss the girl? Hardly anything to discuss, here._ Out loud she said, in a strained and purposely nonchalant tone, "There's nothing to discuss, and everyone knows it. We can't let the girl stay around much longer. She'll figure out what we are, and then what? We'll have the Volturi bearing down on us. They're going to kill her, and then they'll burn _us_!"

An almost imperceptible—but still present—shudder of fear rang through most everyone's minds at the mention of the Volturi and their guard, the group of elite, exceptionally talented vampires who keep order by killing.

She continued. "Tomorrow, or the day after, at the latest, we should take her to an orphanage. Maybe the police are going to search for her, to turn her over into the custody of the government, whatever. She'll be out of our hands."

I could almost hear the mental sigh from the others' minds, including Emmett. It was no secret that Rosalie Hale was quite prone to long rants and lectures whenever she was utterly convinced that her mindset was correct, and anything else was just incorrect. Emmett just put an arm around her shoulders and patted her, trying to calm down the fire in her rapidly-darkening eyes.

"Well…." Esme trailed off, conflicted about announcing her idea after Rosalie's speech. _What if I'm the only one who wants to keep Bella around, the poor child? _she worried. _What if we really do have to turn her in? Do we even qualify as capable parents? A capable family?_

"I think we should adopt Isabella," Carlisle said softly, out of the blue. There was an almost audible intake of air as Carlisle announced what had been lingering on most everyone's minds. "We _should_. She'd be safe with us, and, well…it's not like she has anywhere else to go. This is a rational idea, actually."

Rosalie snorted. "Well, see, there's a teeny little problem," she said, thickening her sarcasm.

"Rose," Emmett chided softly. "Not now." _Here she goes again…._

Rosalie paid him no mind. "We're not human. We're dangerous. We'll most likely end up killing her. And once she finds out? Did _no one _listen to me when I talked about what the Volturi would do? They don't care if she's a kid, an adult, a little old lady, or a newborn baby; as long as she knows about us and our vampirism, we'll be done for!"

"Now, I don't think it would be _that_ severe—" Carlisle began.

"Yes, but you don't _know_. And we can't base anything this serious on 'I thinks'."

Alice, having stayed silent, chose this time to speak up. She'd been riffling through possible outcomes of the future. I had learned to give her privacy while she was "doing her thing", or so Emmett put it. She'd happened upon a particular vision she'd liked—Bella grown up, still living with us, with a boyfriend, a car, friends from school, and everything that a normal teenager would have. And she knew who we were.

"Bella stays with us," Alice declared. "She belongs."

Rosalie stayed silent this time. In serious conversations like this, Alice was the one who usually held the most power. Her visions were subjective, but they were glimpses into the future anyway, and anyone would want knowledge of the future, whether it was just one of many, or almost set in stone.

This vision seemed pretty stable.

"This is silly," she continued in her high, lilting voice. "We're all fighting over nothing. I can see it now; she's going to be a Cullen. So can we please skip the argument and proceed to the part where we tell her that she's going to be a part of our family? Tomorrow morning, of course," she added. "We're not going to wake her up now."

I read Rosalie's defeat. She was aware that no one, not even her beloved Emmett, would choose to take her side against Alice's. Alice spoke with so much conviction, and she truly believed what she said, too; that Bella was going to fit right in with us. She was so convincing that even _I _believed it.

"All right," Esme said. "Now that we have Alice's assertion, well, we'll proceed. Tomorrow, I want you kids to stay home from school—"

"It's going to be sunny anyway," Alice chipped in.

"—and you're going to tell her what we are," Esme added. Alarm and uncertainty came up in Rosalie and Jasper's minds, but Alice and Emmett were quite at ease.

Me; I was not so sure. Better to merge in the background, melt into the wallpaper…make myself inconspicuous. It was what I did best, I suppose.

They fell into silence again, each brooding in his or her own thoughts.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to block away their incessant mental chatter.

Carlisle talked to me, with concern. _Edward? You've been so quiet. Strangely quiet. You and Jasper. What do you think? Talk to us. _For the others' benefit, he repeated himself out loud.

"Well, I…I really don't have much of an opinion on this," I said slowly, maintaining a neutral tone, careful not to give anything away. Foolish, when I _had_ nothing to give away. I was uneasy, wary, but not entirely for or against the notion. "I'm not going to stick around Bella, at least, either way."

_Why not? _Esme asked.

I turned to her. "Her blood is…well…_very_ appealing to me. It's like I can't resist it, if she has a fresh wound. As it is, if I'm too close to her, it's like I'm a newborn all over again, or the like. It's strange. Appalling."

"Ah," Carlisle said, understanding. _The Volturi were truthful when they said that such a lure could be suppressed. _"Your singer."

His mind (and consequently, mine) filled with an old memory of the immortal elders, our government, explaining to him what exactly a singer was.

_Ah, yes. Bloodlust, want, desperate need so unlike ever before._

_Irresistible...._

_Painful if to refrain...._

I stopped listening when the all-too-familiar gush of venom, triggered from thirst, spurted into my mouth.

Ugh.

"Very convenient," Emmett added with a touch of bitterness, so unlike his charming, bright, cheerful persona. His mind flashed back to an instance, half a century ago, when he'd found two women walking unattended. One of them was his singer, and in a fit of bloodlust, he drank them both.

All he could see in his mind's eye was the terror, the screams, the fright of the women he attacked. He thought it his worst crime ever, so inhumane, so cold-blooded. Such a murderer. Emmett was one who strives to be the best, the funniest, and quite frankly, the most perverse of us all, but he also wanted to be the jolliest, the kindest, the nicest. He considered himself quite a failure for that instance.

But the taste of the blood, in his mind...the taste, the feeling of rich satisfaction slipping down his throat, slowly, pleasure drowning out the women's cries; the pleasure of feeling so sated, like never before; and afterward, the onslaught of horror for his actions while looking at the limp, pale, still-warm corpses, rigor mortis not having set in yet.

I could only linger on one thing.

_The taste...._

The memory was quite hard for him to face.

"Bella is—" Carlisle stopped in mid-sentence when he heard what we all did.

Sniffling. Soft, child-like, sniffling, filled with pure misery. Even my cold ice-chunk of a heart twisted a bit at the sound.

It was so quiet, and no human could ever detect it, but we did.

Full of a child's sorrow. The sorrow she should never have faced.

A small, whimpering, choking sound escaped her throat. It was a sound of indignance—no, stronger, of _agony, _a sound which must've reached up to God's ears—or so Carlisle believed. _Why_, it asked. _Why must I suffer? What did I do wrong?_

Just a child.

"Edward," Esme said quietly. "Go."

"Me?" I asked, unable to disguise my surprise. They saw my behavior. They understood what the child was to me, what she held, the _allure_, and why I wanted to stay away from her, as far as possible, as often as possible. "Why, I'm the last person—"

"You'll be fine," Alice spoke, confident. "She's just a girl, a little kid, and she's done nothing wrong. You'll be able to hold back."

And...spoken with the true confidence of a faultless seer...until one changed his or her mind.

Well. All of them—save Rosalie, who couldn't be bothered to think anymore—wanted me to go and comfort Isabella.

Very well, I would. But if it turned out badly…I suppressed a shudder and headed up the stairs.

The sniffles and soft, broken sobs increased in volume as I neared the restless girl. My heart was full of pity for her—but then, what was it worth? _My_ heart? Nothing, to be sure.

Carlisle, Esme and the rest had resumed conferring, marooning me up here to comfort her. With a small sigh, I opened the door.

A beam of light streaked across the room and illuminated Bella's shaking form.

Such I heartbreaking sight I'd never seen. The twin-sized bed had two pillows, and Bella lay on one while burying her face in another, sniffling. She turned her head when I came into the room at a normal human speed, and quickly hid her face again, hastily wiping off her tears.

Her tears…

They smelled so delicious. Blood, tears, everything. I clenched my jaw tight and kept from breathing. It was unnecessary, anyway. _Innocent, innocent, innocent little girl, did nothing wrong, nothing, nothing wrong, not a criminal, no; doesn't deserve to die, doesn't deserve, does not die, don't kill her, don't kill her, don't kill her, don't kill her…._ My thoughts ran around in circles, repeating themselves, singing, chanting, and making me want to rip open my head just to pound my brain a few dozen times. A true sign of mental instability, lest Carlisle's beloved medical books be incorrect.

"Hey," I said quietly, trying to put her at ease. I was aware that I hadn't been the most welcoming person, when Bella first met me, but I was trying to fix that. "Are you all right, kid?" It was strange to use those terms, so casual, but I did.

She looked at me, her eyes bleary and red-rimmed, and nodded. It didn't convince me, not at all.

"Need anything?"

She shook her head. "I'm—" She stopped, her voice croaky and clogged with tears. She tried again. "I'm okay."

"I don't think so," I whispered, coming around to her side and taking one of her small hands in mine. So small, so child-like, so tender. So innocent. I could never kill her.

She looked at our hands and burst into tears again.

"I'm—so-s-sorry," she choked out. "I-I-I d-don't—"

"It's okay," I hushed her, brushing her damp hair away from her face. "It's all right."

"Wh-what's gonna hap-pp-pen to me?" she asked, fear afflicting her tone of voice.

"Well." I brushed away a stray tear, striving all the while not to breathe. "I don't know anything, not for sure." Not breathing didn't help, much; again, the heat and the scent burned, _seared_ itself into my skin, sinking through my skin like it was a mere translucent bubble, instead of a near-indestructible substance.

Bella glanced up at me, unconvinced.

"Don't worry about it. We'll take care of you."

She nodded, thinking that over. "But you d-do know s-s-something?" she breathed out, her breath still shuddering.

"Carlisle and Esme are considering adopting you," I said bluntly. I couldn't resist giving the poor, much-abused (literally) child what she desired, which were answers. For the moment, at least.

"Ad-adoption?" she squeaked.

"Uh...yes."

Downstairs, Alice added her two cents. _Very smooth, Edward._

"Uh-huh," Bella muttered. "Adoption. Okay. Yeah. They've done it a million times before, right? Okay…."

I grinned before I could help myself. "Well, you'll never have to go back to…where you were before, you know. We won't let anyone hurt you like that. Your dad won't hurt you anymore," I added, more solemn now.

Bella's face twisted in indignation. "Don't talk to me like I'm a little kid, please," she said, a touch of exasperation lacing her tone. "I _know_ Charlie's dead. Dead people don't hurt you. There's no such thing as ghosts. I _know_ that."

There were a few chuckles.

Abruptly, her hard demeanor cracked again, and her face twisted into pain.

Before I knew what I was doing, I'd climbed into her bed, squeezing into the side, and Bella's little form was crushed to mine. She grabbed my shirt and cried into it. "W-w-why?" she sobbed. "Why did Charlie have to be like that? Why couldn't someone else's daddy be like that? Why did it have to be _mine_?"

Her queries made me feel quite stupid, frankly.

"I don't know," I answered, hard-pressed as I was to confess that I knew nothing at the moment—nothing of value, at least. Some comforter I was—even Rosalie would be better in this situation. "Things…happen."

"He wasn't like this…." She quieted, and spoke up again. "He wasn't like this before Renée died. My mom. Two years ago. He got worse and w-worse," she mumbled thickly.

I just hugged her. "Shh," I whispered. "Try to sleep. You're exhausted."

"S-school," she whispered. "Tomorrow."

A snort escaped from my mouth, before I even realized it. "Right. You are _not_ going back to school. Tomorrow or the day after or any of this week, or any of the next. You have to give your head time to heal, young lady. Okay?"

She just nodded. With a sigh, she curled up and became limp in my arms. "You're so cold," she muttered.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "Do you want me to go?"

"It's okay," she said, yawning; I doubt she was fully conscious anymore. "Don't…." she never finished that sentence.

I still held her.

The last three words she uttered before she faded into the long-forgotten realm of sleep chilled me to the bone. It shook me, that she was so observant.

"What are you?"

[/EPOV]

*** *** ***

[BPOV]

I stared at the cream-colored curtains, with white patterns embroidered on them. The muted light from outside was barely visible. Clouds covered everything, as usual.

Unlike in stories and books, I was able to remember exactly where I was and why, as soon as I'd woken.

I remember going to sleep with Edward, curling up on him. I was crying into him—I don't remember _that_ part too clearly. But outside his frightening demeanor, Edward seems…nice. Very protective. Very nice. So much like the big brother I'd never had, the big brother I'd wanted, to protect me from Charlie these past few years.

But he was so cold….

That was strange. I knew it wasn't a medical problem, though. After all, they had Dr. Cullen—Carlisle—as their father.

Remembering what Edward had told me, that Carlisle and Esme (bless their hearts, but…) were considering _adoption_, I tried to imagine a life like that.

Emmett would teach me all the "important" stuff I needed to know. Sports, survival, how to eat quickly, and all that. He seemed like a goofball, but I thought he was great. Nice, at least. Very nice. Very outgoing.

As for his sister/girlfriend/possibly fiancée or wife (I do _not _pretend to understand what they are, as a whole), Rosalie, well, I'd ignore her.

Alice would be the nicest big sister ever, though she wasn't so big, not in size. She'd take me shopping, she'd play with me and my friends, she'd let me have sleepovers in her room…she'd be so nice.

Jasper would be very quiet, very serious. I felt that about him. He would be calm when I was frenzied, and play the peacemaker, I suppose. Very subtle, I guess, but at times very crucial. I thought he was nice, albeit a bit too quiet.

Edward….

He'd be the one I could cry on, the one I could scream and yell at and he'd be sitting there, unfazed, while he listened to me rant. He could protect me from bullies and, well, other bad people. He'd be like my best friend. He'd be the one to lecture my potential boyfriend on how to take care of me, what time to bring me back, and to threaten him, just a bit. He'd be the perfectly nice, but protective, brother.

Overuse of the word "nice".

But that's what the Cullens were. Nice. Carlisle and Esme seemed so homey, so caring. They'd be such perfect parents. I could just see Esme handing me some medicine and a glass of water when I was sick, stroking my forehead, feeling my temperature. And Carlisle seemed to be the stronghold of the family, holding everyone together.

_Yes_, I decided. _It would be a nice life indeed. I'll go one better than nice—it would be a phenomenal life._

A life I never had.

[/BPOV]

**AN: Sorry about the long wait! Our house got struck by lightning (NOT KIDDING), and it completely zapped our Internet, all TV connections, and our phones were dead. Lucky us. I was going insane without the Internet!!**

**The wireless router's on it's way, la-la....**

**All rightie…next chapter's going to start out with the adoption, and then…o.0 who knows?**

**Review……..as always :) They make me take pity on poor, tortured Edward :D :( XD**


	3. Chapter 3: Interrogation

**AN: Hello. Hi. Whatever. So, here is the next chapter. I don't know anything about adoption processes or anything, so I just skipped past that to the part where Isabella Marie Swan turns into Isabella Marie Cullen. Cool?**

* * *

[BPOV]

So this was it, huh?

Nice.

Well.

I suppose this is a turn on my life i'd never expected, up until recently.

So I am officially the little sister to Emmett, Alice and Edward Cullen; Rosalie and Jasper, I learned later, were adopted twins who chose to keep their original last name, Hale. I was initiated into the Cullen family by pulling an all-nighter with my new siblings. The whole night long, we sat around in Emmett and Rosalie's room (yes, they shared a room) and listened to Emmett cracking jokes, often funny, often hilarious, _more_ than often lame, and sometimes very perverted. It was strange, hanging out with people so much older than me, but it was also fun, in a certain way.

When Emmett stepped out of line with one of his jokes or innuendos, Edward and Alice would shush him quickly, and steal a glance my way. No doubt my cheeks were stained with crimson rose, but I just closed my eyes and willed the heat away.

Rosalie would just smack him.

Jasper would say: "We've got a minor in the house."

The whole night was quite fun, but the strange thing was, none of them looked fatigued or sleepy at all. They might've taken some pills to keep them awake, but I was yawning until tears threatened to slip down. Tears were my automatic reaction to yawning; it seemed like they just accompanied yawns.

I was beginning to doubt the…normalcy, I suppose, of the family. They seemed to be something other than human—of course, not literally—but they were just all so _pretty_ and shared so many traits in common, despite the fact that they were all adopted. Pale, cool skin, for one. Golden—and sometimes black—eyes. Flawless grace. I felt even clumsier than usual, next to them.

There was also a sort of tension in the house, I noticed. It was as if they all wanted to say something, but were afraid to. I could see the holding back in their eyes, the clenching of teeth to keep the words in, to keep them from escaping.

Another thing: they never ate.

Ever.

I'd been watching them all closely, and while they _may_ just be dieting, I truly doubt it. So strange, this family. I didn't want to just ignore this. I wanted answers.

But the answers could wait, because as of now, I was being chauffeured back over to my home—no, my _old_ home—by Edward, to pack up everything I wanted to keep, because Doct—_Carlisle—_announced yesterday that we were going to move away from Forks, because of a job change.

It's good timing, I guess, since I'd finished one quarter already.

The entire time, Edward and I rode in silence. His hands were tense on the steering wheel, and I vaguely wondered what had him so riled.

Only vaguely, though, because I myself was plagued with walking back through the doorway again and trudging past the scene of the crime. Where I was brutally attacked and left for dead by the deceased Charlie Swan—I refuse to call him my dad anymore—who received the ultimate punishment: death.

That made me feel better, a little.

I was concentrating very intently on studying the seams on the leather covering on Edward's seat, when the car lurched to a stop.

"We're here," Edward announced, pulling out his keys from the ignition.

I kept studying the tan stitching.

"Bella?"

I remained silent, my eyes staring forward now. My focus was no longer on the threads that held the seat together; they were staring into nothingness. Nothingness.

Why did I agree to this? Alice had offered to "pack up everything in that house in a jiffy", but I'd insisted on going by myself—accompanied by Edward—and packing up the things myself.

Why did I sign my own death warrant?

"Please, Bella…." Edward faltered, then started again. Out of my periphery, I saw him looking at me intently, but I ignored him. "I know it's hard, but you've got to face it."

"Face what?" I asked, in a voice not much more than a small whisper.

He sighed, running a hand through his very messy hair. He then sat still and waited for me, but there was no movement of my body, as far as I knew, other than the rise and fall of my shoulders as I took in and exhaled breaths.

"So what are you planning to do?" he asked, at length. "Just sit here and expect your belongings to pack themselves? We _are_ here, you know."

"I don't know."

He sighed and opened up his door. After stepping out, he opened mine from the outside. A draft of cool air circulated in and stirred up my hair, and attacked me through my thin sweater.

He bent down until he was face-to-face with me, obviously hoping that I'd look at him. "Would it help you get in if…if I carried you?" he asked hesitantly. "You could close your eyes that way, and not look at the…well, you know."

I nodded. "Uh-huh," I muttered out. "Sure."

The arms of his jacket rustled as he reached out his arms for me and put them around me. I reached over to undo my seatbelt, and he pulled me out of my seat and cradled me close to him. I heard the car door close, and closed my eyes.

He carried me, step by step, up the walkway and up the steps. I heard no click of a key in the door, no turn of the knob. Curiosity brewed inside me. Did the authorities (who, undoubtedly, must've come here) take off the door? And for what reason? Did Charlie barge right _through_ the door in his rage? Surely he wasn't that strong. As Edward's shoes made muffled thuds on the carpeted stairs, I was too curious. I opened one eye and looked.

Curiosity killed the cat.

I was the cat.

The door was gone, yes, but chunks of maroon wood lay strewn about, with splinters littering the floor.

But at the moment, the door I could care less about.

The brown, translucent bottle still lay on the ground, half-shattered. A dry, sticky-looking stain was on the linoleum, by the shattered bottle. But what sickened me most of all were splatters of dark red on the white, plaster wall.

Blood.

More specifically, my blood.

Memories came rushing at me now. Ugly, bloody, gory memories, which I'd sought to protect myself from by surrounding myself with the happiness the Cullens could give me, came back to me.

_My nose, twitching uneasily at the scent of so much alcohol._

_Charlie's hand, shaking, gripping the papers and shaking violently._

_The smash of the beer bottle against the stair railing._

_The bottle, hurtling toward me._

_Blackness._

_The manila file folder._

Was that all it boiled down to? Charlie's madness and eventual death? The ugly pink scar across my forehead—like Harry Potter, I reflected, and stupidly, at that—and my adoption into the Cullen family?

The domino that had tipped all the other ones over.

_Grades._

One letter.

C.

If only I'd done better in class! If only I hadn't considered myself to have had esteemed genius, and therefore, used no effort!

I was responsible for all this. Me. The blame rested on me. It was my fault as surely as if I'd killed Charlie myself and sliced open my own forehead. My fault. All mine, for bringing home that grade.

Oh, my God.

I didn't realize how loud my breathing was until Edward reached the last step. He gently set me down, blocking my view of the downstairs destruction with his form. "Bella? Bella, hello? Are you all right?"

I just kept breathing quickly, in and out, in and out. The term was…hyper…hyperventilating, I think. Breathing too quickly.

"Oh, no, you shouldn't have seen that, Bella!" he exclaimed, his voice now holding a touch of fear. "You shouldn't have opened your eyes! And no one's been in here to clean it, no one…hello? Bella?"

I stared at the top button of the collar of his polo.

He put his cold hands on my shoulders and shook me. I blinked, and looked up into his face. "Bella! Answer me!"

"It was my fault."

That froze him. "Excuse me?"

"I got the C," I mumbled. "It was my fault. I didn't live up to Charlie's expectations, and he got angry. It was my fault he died."

He was quiet for a split second, and then dragged me into my room. How he knew that it was mine, I had no idea, but he did. He set me down on my bed, gently, where I curled up into a ball. Protection. It was protection.

Edward's hand came up and cupped my chin, forcing me to stare at him. "Bella," he whispered. "It's not your fault. Of course it's not your fault. It's not an awful sin to receive a C, you know. Charlie was a drunkard, and was in a delusional, hazy state. He wasn't aware of his actions, but that doesn't condone what he did. It's none of your fault. None. You hear me?"

I said nothing.

"Bella!" he snapped, his voice sharp with frustration.

He caught my attention. My eyes focused and snapped to his quickly. His brow was creased in frustration, and he'd thrown down his hand. He stood up and started pacing. "Bella. You're being absolutely insane about this," he seethed. "What, so you're going to turn yourself in? 'Oh, I'm responsible for the death of Charlie Swan, my father'," he mimicked. "Is that how it's going to be? 'I received a C, and he was unhappy and happened to be drunk; therefore, it's no way at all his fault that he went out and crashed himself'. Ridiculous!"

I couldn't help but follow him with his eyes. He was so angry, and his pacing seemed very fast, faster than normal. His annoyed expression flitted to me every once in a while.

"You're going to let this eat you up if you act like this," he warned me. "It'll eat you up and leave you emotionless. You're just going to be a dead shell of a person. Do you think I've never seen trauma patients? My father works in the hospital! I've seen what happens to people who refuse to accept what happens, and to just move on! Do you want to be like that, Bella?" he asked me, stopping in front of me. "Do you want to be some sort of withdrawn soul who sits silently all day without ever registering a single word inside your head?"

My eyes teared up. I couldn't help it; I was slightly sensitive, and his words hurt.

Finally, he looked down at me. "Sorry," he whispered.

A tear leaked down from the corner of my eye.

"Oh, no," he breathed, stooping down again. "Please don't cry! Please!" he pled, his long, cold fingers wiping away my stray tears.

I dragged in a long, shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry, Bella, sorry, sorry, sorry!" I lost count of how many times he'd apologized, over and over and over, for yelling at me. "Please, Bella, I didn't mean it…don't cry!"

The tears became all-out sobs.

Edward, seeming to have realized that comforting and shushing me weren't going to help his case much, just held me. I cried and cried, more than I had that first night.

Edward was always the one I cried on.

Eventually, the sobs started diminishing into ragged tears. I felt my chest bump up and down, and knew that the inevitable hiccups had arrived.

"I'm so—hic!—sorry," I whispered.

A strangled laugh was what I received for my reply. "Sorry?" Edward exclaimed. "What in the world do _you_ have to be sorry for?"

I wasn't quite too sure myself. "Er…ruining—hic!—your jacket," I finally muttered.

He looked down at his shoulder, at the large puddle of salt, and shrugged. "The jacket's next to nothing," he said, blowing it off. "But are you…are you okay?"

"I've been better."

"Of course," he whispered.

We just sat like that for a while, and he patted my back, patting the hiccups away. Eventually, when they were gone too, he released me from his cold grip.

"Well," he finally said.

"Shall we proceed with the job of packing up your room?"

With a sullen nod, I got up from the bed.

"Wait here," Edward instructed me.

I just nodded again.

He blinked, and then rushed out of the door. I could hear his steps thudding as they pounded down the stairs, toward the door—

No door.

Don't think about that.

_Don't think about that._

Don't THINK about that!

I barely had time to start on any other train of thought before—thump, thump, thump—his feet pounded on the carpeted steps again. A mere moment later, he was in his doorway, panting lightly.

"Oh, are those too heavy?" I asked, glad to have something to preoccupy myself with. "Here, I can help—"

"That's all right." He flashed a smile at me—they had perfect teeth, too?! What the heck?—and set them both down in front of him. Unzipping the first one, he said, "Okay. First things first, all of your clothes. Bring 'em here."

I kept my mouth shut about how wrong that sounded, and trudged to my closet. I reached inside and grabbed the two folded stacks—one of shirts, and one of pants.

"Here," I announced, returning to him with the contents of my closet in my arms.

He took one look at me, and his whole face changed. He reached one hand out to the pile in my arms, as if to touch them, and then retracted his hand.

How odd. "What?" I queried, feeling slightly ill at ease.

He snapped his eyes away. "Nothing," he muttered, his voice pulled taut and high. A minute later, though, his tone switched back to normal. "Don't tell me that's all you have," he pleaded.

I must've looked perplexed. "Excuse me?"

"You don't have any more clothes than that?" he asked, his voice shocked again. He gestured to the clothes in my arms. "That's _it_?"

"What do you mean, that's it?" I asked. "I mean…four t-shirts, two long-sleeves, a sweater, two pairs of jeans, some shorts…that's enough to get along on."

"Enough to get along on?"

"Hmm?"

His voice was seething. "This isn't normal, Bella," he said. "Normal kids have a whole closet-full of clothes and whatnot. You only have this? This might even hold up in court as child abuse."

"But—"

"Please tell me you have more clothes…somewhere," he pleaded, desperately.

"Umm, well…." I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't know what the right answers were. "I mean, I have my jacket downstairs."

"So that's all." His voice was final.

"Yes."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Well," he finally said. "Well."

"Well, what?" I snapped. "Quit saying things that mean nothing! Pointless!"

He chuckled. "Alice is going to fix up your wardrobe soon enough."

I looked up, confused. "Huh?"

"Knowing her, she'll probably take you shopping tonight."

"Shopping?" My voice wavered despite my efforts. "Are you sure?"

"Favorite pastime. It's the answer to almost all of her passwords."

"Oh, goody," I said, sarcastically. Shopping—the way I remembered it, anyway—was just Charlie, dropping me off to wander the mall for three hours, with ten dollars in my pocket. I could only gaze wistfully at the small accessories and cutesy clothes everyone else was wearing, and then look at my own plain, wide shirts with "room to grow in to".

I'd often overheard some of my other classmates talk about how their mommies took them shopping, in shops with all the earrings and other jewelry and hair bands they could want. They bought all kinds of pretty clothes.

Charlie said, "Those girls are stupid. Why would you need all that? You have clothes on your back, right? You're not freezing to death in the winter, right?"

And so, in an attempt to seem mature and know that I had no need of extra clothes, I'd agreed.

Oh, how stupid I'd been. To agree with him!

Edward shook his head. "Well," he said. "I certainly can't…read your mind." He smiled, and snorted to himself. "You're going to show me what you want and what you don't."

So that's what we did.

For the next hour, we swept my room clean, and I packed in the precious few—but vitally important, at least to me—mementos I had left. They barely filled half of the first suitcase, and Edward always clucked his tongue, and made some comment about how deprived I was, of a childhood and of worldly things.

Other than that, we made easy, pleasant chatter. We talked about Emmett and Rosalie's relationship, and why Emmett was as he is right now. Edward claims Emmett had a rather troubled childhood and was always filled with depression and frowning and unhappiness; now, he wanted to surround himself with an aura of happiness, or laughter, at the very least. Rosalie was a good grounder for him, though, with her iciness and cool superiority. Perhaps Emmett viewed her as a challenge of some sort. I wondered if he could ever make Rosalie smile.

Alice had amnesia when she was younger, Edward told me. She remembered nothing from her past, nothing from her childhood at all. As far as she was concerned, her life began when she was thirteen years old.

"She doesn't like pity," he informed me, at one point. "She'll snap your head off if you start being sorry and all." He froze for a split second, and then laughed at himself.

"What?" I asked curiously.

"Nothing." He'd stopped laughing by now, but a smile still lingered on his face. "Inside joke."

In the end, I'd only brought personal items of mine: some photos, my meager wardrobe, a few toiletries, my backpack, and other random things. The rest, Edward assured me that they could replace it once we'd moved into the new house.

He carried me down again, down the stairs. This time, though, I kept my eyes shut and plugged my ears, and didn't allow myself to see or hear until we were zooming away in Edward's silver car.

I opened my eyes to see Edward smiling at me from the rearview mirror. "What?" I asked.

"Good," he said. "You've made improvements."

"Ha-ha…"

*** ***

[EPOV]

We'd driven for about three minutes in silence, when Bella spoke again.

"Edward, are you human?"

The question caught me so off guard that the car wobbled a bit—passing strange, for one with my driving skills. "What?" I tried to play it off.

"Are you human?" She was serious.

"Hah," I snorted. "Take your guess at what we are."

"Frankensteins?" she guessed.

"No," I was able to answer with confidence. However, with the direction the conversation was going, she was most likely going to say "Dracula" soon enough. I gritted my teeth and acted stoic.

"Spider-men?"

"No."

"Supermen?"

"No."

"Er…what?"

"I said, guess."

"Draculas?"

I remained silent.

"Edward? Seriously? I was kidding, you know," she muttered. "You aren't…REALLY a…you know, vampire, are you?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out," I said.

She was quiet for a minute, and then she…reacted.

"WHAT?! VAMPIRES DON'T EXIST? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? I'M NOT STUPID, YOU KNOW! EVEN SECOND-GRADERS LIKE US KNOW VAMPIRES ARE JUST IMAGINARY! I KNOW YOUR FAMILY'S A BIT STRANGE, BUT YOU'RE NOT VAMPIRES! YOU'RE NOT!"

I waited. "Are you finished?"

She'd turned red in her rant.

"Well," I continued. "You'll find out whether or not I'm telling the truth. You'll find out."

"You're not a vampire!" she said. "They don't exist! They don't exist! You would've sucked my blood, though!"

Ha, she had no idea how close I'd actually come to that. "I might have self-control," I snarled.

"So that proves it."

"Talk to Carlisle," I suggested quietly, turning onto the drive back to our home. "He'll tell you."

"Damn right," she muttered. "He'd better."

_Knew it._

Alice's irritating soprano voice drifted into my mind. _Ha. I'm glad I wasn't there to deal with that outburst. _

Right. Sure. Lucky her.

_Come on, Edward. She's _seven_. With the intelligence level of a twelve-year-old. What other reaction did you expect when she finally found out?_

Hmm. We don't map out our every thought, prediction, and action, Alice.

_And she _would_'ve found out, no matter out. So perceptive._

Okay.

_Did you expect something like…"Oh, all right. You're vampires. Cool. So when are you going to suck my blood"? _

Not exactly that, but something along the lines, yes.

_You idiot._

I thought this gift of mine was just one-way, Alice.

Bella's glare pierced me from the rearview mirror, and when I drove up to the house, she unfastened her seatbelt.

I zoomed into the garage and screeched to an abrupt halt. "Come on," I said brusquely. "You wanted your answer. Well, you're going to get it

* * *

**AN: Just felt like leaving it there.**

**So, who hates school already?**

**_Moi_. _Yo._ Yes.**

**I tried to make this one longer. I'm feeling a _bit_ discouraged, though…I mean, how many reviews have I gotten? Ten? And so many people still just put me on story alert or favorites and never _say_ anything. It ticks me off. _Please_ review. I'm putting off applying more benadryl cream to my poison ivy oozing ruptures to write this. **

**Yes, poison ivy. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.**

**Adios, amigas (amigos, if there are any out there).**


	4. Chapter 4: Speed

**AN: Right then, on with it. I think the I got the reaction right, but who knows? Read on. **

**P.S. I'm sorry it isn't very long. I haven't had much time to write lately.**

* * *

[BPOV]

I stamped out of the car in a huff.

_Vampires…_

Yeah, right. Who did he think he was kidding, anyway? This must've been some great big prank pulled on me. Thank you, thank you, genius masterminds of the prank. You caught me. Haha. Now can we start moving?

Right now, I was glaring at the seam in the back of Edward's jacket as he walked in front of me, carrying my two suitcases. A tiny part of me felt slightly guilty for making him carry them.

But then I remembered his oh-so-seriousness in the "vampire" "Dracula" thing.

And my pity vanished.

He rang the doorbell and stepped aside, looking at me with a resigned expression in his eyes. I glared, and he sighed, exasperated.

Esme opened the door, looking at us in concern. Behind her stood the rest of the Cullens, even Rosalie, who often avoided me for reasons unbeknownst to me.

We stepped inside, and Edward shut the door behind us, quietly, gently.

All of us just stood there for a moment, looking at each other, until I broke the silence by dropping my arms and leaning back against the door.

Carlisle spoke.

"He wasn't kidding, you know," he said gently. "We _are _different."

"Well, yeah, I know that!" I snapped, not bothering with any manners. "I'm not _stupid_, you know! I know you have weird skin, weird eyes, and all that crap! But he was trying to feed me some nonsense about _vampires_! How am I supposed to believe _that_?!"

Carlisle looked uneasy as he looked about the family. Rosalie just tapped her foot, making me slightly irritated.

To my surprise, Jasper was the one who spoke. He did so rarely. "Bella," he said quietly. "We know Edward…implied that we were vampires. And, well…." He broke off.

"Well, what?"

"It's true."

I stared at him, and at the rest of the family. They stared back.

No.

I started laughing, desperately, trying to convince myself that at any moment, they were going to break into easy grins and be a normal, human family again. "That's not true," I said, more to myself than the others. "That's not true! You're messing with me, aren't you?"

"No," Carlisle said, a firm edge to his voice. "We're not."

"Prove it, then!" I challenged. "If you're vampires, do something that it's not humanly possible to do!"

Edward, still beside me, suddenly stiffened. I turned to glare at him. "What?"

"You want proof?" he asked, his voice choking.

"Well, yeah!"

Alice intervened. "Edward…" she said quietly, then proceeded to mutter to him something too fast and too low for me to understand. He gave her a curt nod, and picked up my two suitcases.

"Watch me carefully," he told me.

"Oh, I will," I mumbled.

He held them, and then…I saw a streak up the stairs, and a streak down. And then Edward was in front of me, relieved of the two suitcases. I merely stared.

"Is that proof enough?" he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

I shook my head and blinked. "That was an illusion," I said, persistent.

Rosalie stepped forward. "How about this?" she asked. She stepped outside, and over to Edward's Volvo. I watched her from inside, from the window.

_And then, she lifted the car._

Clear up, she lifted it. Over her head. With one arm. One arm.

She put it down.

I felt a rush of cold wind, and then, she was standing in front of me. And the door was closed.

"Is that proof enough for you?" she demanded. "We're vampires; accept that. We drink blood, we don't die, we're superhumanly strong, fast, and beautiful…and you're just too obstinate to see it!"

It was true. I couldn't just deny what I'd seen. And Esme…she was a grown-up. Grown-ups didn't play tricks on kids—at least, not about vampires.

They were dead serious.

So I did the only thing I could.

I ran.

Up the stairs, and to my room, I ran, and locked the door.

And threw myself on my new bed and burst into tears.

[/BPOV]

*** ***

[EPOV]

_That went well._

[/EPOV]

*** ***

[EmmettPOV]

_Aww, shit._

[/EmmettPOV]

*** ***

[RosaliePOV]

Nasty little brat…

[/RosaliePOV]

*** ***

[BPOV]

I woke up the next morning, my eyes salt-encrusted and sticky with sleep.

I looked at the clock. I'd slept fourteen hours.

Pushing myself up into a sitting position, I stretched and looked around the room.

And then, I nearly screamed, because I wasn't alone. Edward was in the corner, away from the rare sunlight streaming through the flower-printed cream curtains, just like a real vampire.

"What are you _doing_?" I hissed.

"Paying a visit to my new little sister—or, oh, am I not allowed to do even that now?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Get _OUT!_ I don't want to see you! When I was adopted, I never exactly got the memo that I was going to be living with a bunch of…bloodsuckers!"

He stiffened, and I saw that the comment was a bit uncalled for.

"That was uncalled for," he snapped at me.

"Which is exactly why I said it," I snarled back.

He sighed and stepped toward me, avoiding the patch of sunlight. I stiffened and drew away.

"Relax," he told me with a small smile. "I'm not going to bite…I guess."

"Ha," I said. "Funny. Which reminds me…why exactly haven't you eaten me yet?"

"We don't _eat_ humans."

"Oh, no, of _course_ not. You suck the blood right out of them. That's so much better, I'm sure." I knew I was being a brat, but seeing as I'd had a very…stressing answer burdened onto me yesterday, I felt like I was somewhat entitled.

He sat on the edge of my bed. "To be frank, Bella, the first time I met you was really after your father drove away and you were in your house, bleeding," he said. "I smelled your blood in my car and I just jumped out and crashed right through that door. That's why it was in splinters, you see," he explained.

"Gah," I moaned.

He ignored me. "You're lucky Alice was there, otherwise you would've been done for. She pulled me off you, and carried you back here."

"But…" I spluttered. "But why haven't you killed me yet?"

He snorted. "What a nice question to ask."

"I mean…." I struggled for words. "Why haven't you, you know, sucked my blood yet? You've had plenty of opportunity."

For the first time today, he looked me straight in the eyes. The same piercing gold met me again. "Bella, we're not what you think we are," he began.

"I thought you were vampires. What are you now, wizards?"

"Shh, stop interrupting. We don't drink human blood. It's possible to survive without it. Carlisle discovered that back in the sixteen-hundreds when he was changed. We survive on the blood of animals. Not as satisfying as human blood, but we make do."

"So, wait. You've drunk human blood before?"

"A few times, yes."

I shrank back.

"I tracked criminals in large cities…New York, Boston, Chicago, London, Paris. The crime rates in those cities dropped significantly for weeks after I'd been through."

"Um…." I interrupted again. "Can you tell me your unabridged history _after_ this? I think I need a shower, and I'll just meet you downstairs."

He nodded. "That's fine." He rose, stepped outside my room, and shut the door.

I took a deep breath and opened one of the suitcases from my previous residence. I grabbed a long-sleeved shirt and some jeans and stepped into the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, I was fully groomed and ready. I took a deep breath and stepped outside.

Descending the stairs, I was aware of a hush over the large mansion. The Cullens were lounging in the den, waiting for me. I stood at the bottom of the stairs, unsure of what to do.

The golden eyes were all focused on me. I suddenly felt dizzy, and swayed a bit.

Then, I was in Emmett's arms, and he set me down on a sofa, next to Edward.

I spoke. "I'm sorry about how I reacted yesterday," I whispered.

Esme's eyes were immediately filled with compassion. "Oh, honey," she crooned. "That was expected! We wouldn't think you'd react calmly…you just found out we were vampires. We've discussed, and if you want to leave, maybe go for a normal human family…well…that's fine with us, as long as it's your choice."

I held up a finger. "Oh, no, I never said that," I said. "I just, um, want some, um, you know…explanations."

"Of course," Carlisle said. "Explanations."

And explain, they did.

For the next three hours.

Carlisle was born in the sixteen-hundreds, a preacher's kid, and bit by a vampire in his twenties—I assumed that's how old he was at the moment. He controlled his thirst, regained humanity, and went on to study medicine.

Edward was dying of the Spanish Influenza in the very same hospital Carlisle happened to be working in, in the year nineteen-eighteen. When he'd seemed like a lost cause, Carlisle bit Edward, and Edward turned into a vampire.

Later, Carlisle found Esme. She'd hurled herself off a cliff, after losing her child, and was already on her way to the morgue when Carlisle carried her back. She was barely living, but Carlisle changed her, too.

Edward then began his rebellious phase, left home, and roamed around the western hemisphere, looking for human prey. He was in an awful rush to get past that section of his life. Eventually, though, he turned good again.

Next was Rosalie. Carlisle found her too. She'd been raped by her fiancé, Royce, and was left for dead when Carlisle found her. She was also changed. Esme and Carlisle had wanted to play matchmaker with Rosalie and Edward, but no such luck.

Emmett came next; Rosalie found him, about to be eaten alive by a bear. She thought he was cute, brought him back, and Carlisle changed him. They were quite the couple.

Jasper and Alice weren't connected. Jasper had been changed during the Civil War, during a vampire war. The vampires were fighting for control over powerful cities, and Jasper was caught up in it. Despite the odds, he survived, and walked away. He fed on humans for a long time, up until he'd met the Cullens.

Alice was in a mental institute, when a smitten vampire bit her. She'd lost all memories of her human life, so Edward had based her human alibi off that.

Jasper met Alice first. They met in a restaurant, I believe—and it was "love at first sight". Romantic. And then, they wandered into the Cullens and were accepted.

And thus, they were.

And now, I was the newest addition to the not-so-little family.

My mind had long since slipped into analytical mode. From what I could gather, the _coven_, as they all called it, seemed to rotate around Carlisle. He was the creator of half the people—er, vampires—in this room, and he was just the leader, the paternal figure.

I was still in shock, and they were looking at me with concern.

"What?" I asked, my voice raspy. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're pale," Edward said. "Very pale. Like us."

"So vampires are pale."

"Well, yes."

"Can you recite the characteristics of vampire again?" I requested. "I'm afraid I didn't catch it all that time."

He laughed. "Well, for one, we're pale."

"We have golden eyes, and blood drinkers have red," Alice offered. "But our eyes all turn black when we're thirsty."

"We're strong!" Emmett boomed.

"We're very…beautiful," Rosalie said.

"We don't die," Jasper said quietly.

"We never sleep," Carlisle said.

Esme stepped forward, and sat on my other side. "Bella," she began in a serious tone. "You _must_ understand us. No one else can _ever_ find out we're not human, do you understand?"

"Why not?" I asked.

"We're just not allowed to," Edward replied in a clipped tone.

I considered pressing the issue further, and then decided against it. That was more than enough conversation I could take for a day.

"All right," I said. "I promise."

"Bella, we'll be moving around a lot," Carlisle said. "Every few years. We can't stay in a place for any longer than that, or people will see we're different. That we don't change. This move I was talking about is just one of many."

"All…all right," I said awkwardly.

Then my stomach growled.

Emmett laughed. "Time to feed the human, is it?" he teased me.

I turned red. "Stop that," I muttered. And then another thought struck me. "Wait, you don't eat food, do you?"

"Not the food you eat," Emmett replied with a grin. "But venison is quite good."

"Venison?" I asked, perplexed.

He just smiled.

"Oh," I said, as I realized what he meant. My nose wrinkled up a little. I wasn't exactly fond of the Cullens' eating habits, but… "Oh. I get it now."

Emmett laughed. "Knew you would, Bella."

Beside me, Edward shifted. "Okay," he said, his voice sounding stiff and distant after Emmett's loud, careless one. "Now that she's in full knowledge of what we are, can we _please_ leave?"

"Whoops," I mumbled. "I still have a few things to clear out in my room. I'll be back down really fast, and we can get going."

I jumped up, but Edward tugged me back down. "No need." He pointed his chin toward Alice and Esme, who seemed to be sitting in their regular spots, but all three of my suitcases were laying by their feet.

It took me a second or two to put the pieces together.

"Did you just…go upstairs…and get my stuff?" I asked, stunned. "Wait, that fast? _Really?_"

"Yep," Alice said chirpily. "It was _nothing. _Really, Bella. You have no wardrobe at all!"

"Hmm? Really?" I asked. I still wasn't very used to the idea that I'd been…poorly treated by Charlie. The idea that I was less privileged than most little girls my age.

"Told you," Edward mumbled, next to me.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Carlisle said, standing up. "All our belongings are already in our respective cars, so we're all ready to go."

Oh, these nocturnal creatures. Now that I had gotten through my very interesting introduction to vampire life, I was able to notice some small things. The room was just a bit empty. Decorations stored away, dishes and silverware—props, I guess—were gone, and some picture frames on the wall were taken down, too. Larger things, though, were still in their rightful places.

The rest of the family followed Carlisle, standing up and talking in a low hum, too fast and quiet for me to make out. Another thing about vampires: they had ears like a bat.

And then, my stomach growled again.

"Oh, no," Esme fretted. "I'm sorry, Bella. Sometimes it slips our minds that humans need to…well, eat. Do you think we could pick something up for you on the road? I'm afraid we don't have any more food in the house at the moment."

"Sure," I said. "No problem."

"All right, then, sweetie, let's go."

I followed her into the garage, where the rest of the Cullens were. Esme shut the garage door, effectively shoving away my first home with the Cullens.

"You can ride with Edward, dear," Esme told me. "His car is the only one that actually has some room."

I peered into Alice's car—a bright yellow Porsche; it fit her, since it was so flashy and noticeable—and saw that her car was piled up to the brim with boxes and packages and sometimes just clothes, laying out, strewn everywhere.

"Uh-huh," I said. I walked over to Edward's Volvo and opened the silver-handled door, hopping in.

The cars all backed out of the garage. First was Carlisle and Esme, both riding in Carlisle's shiny, black car. Then Emmett, then Rosalie, then Alice, and finally, Edward and I.

I lay down, making myself comfortable against the soft backseat. I didn't really care much where we were going.

Edward never disturbed me either, and I was thankful for that. That is, he didn't talk to me until about five minutes later:

"Where do you want to eat?"

"Huh?"

"Where do you want to eat?" he repeated.

"Um…anywhere, I guess. It doesn't really matter to me," I said absently.

I felt the car turn, and I sat up. Edward drove into the drive-thru, and I could see the big yellow M staring at me. McDonalds.

"What do you want?" Edward asked, as we approached the speaker where you order. I wasn't sure what that was, since I'd never been to a drive-thru, but I was guessing that was its purpose.

"Um…fries and a Big Mac, I guess," I answered.

"So generic. Fries and a Big Mac," he said into the speaker.

He drove to the window and waited for about a minute, and then someone stuck a bag out the opening and Edward took it.

So that was how it worked.

He handed the bag to me, and as I was opening it, he rolled down all four windows of the car. "Gets the stink out," he explained when I gave him a quizzical look via the rearview mirror.

"Oh. So it stinks?" I wondered. "Because it smells perfectly good to me."

"That's because you're a starving seven-year-old. But for us, yes."

After I'd eaten, I rolled up the paper bag and set it down gently on the floor. I stretched out across the backseat and studied the top of the car.

But the bumping and the hum of the car as it sped along the freeway was gentle and soothing. Before long, I was dozing off and away.

* * *

**AN: I tried not to make it too bad, but I kind of finished this in a hurry.**

**Well, anyway, tell me what you think. It wasn't very easy to write some parts of this (it always felt strangely awkward and didn't sound right) so I hope it wasn't too bad.**

**As always, please review…**

**Please...**

**And yeah, suggestions on the direction of the story would be greatly appreciated too.**


	5. Chapter 5: Road

**AN: Ahahah! I'm BACK!! Unfortunately, this chapter is mostly just about the road trip and some introspective thinking; some banter; some interspecies conflict. Nothing out of the ordinary, lol. An easy read.**

**GO ON...**

* * *

[EPOV]

I wrinkled my nose just slightly from the stench of oil-fried potatoes—pardon me, French fries—and various other ingredients. Of course, I'd long since ceased my air intake, but wrinkling my nose was just a reflex reaction, carved into my brain after years of humanity, and surprisingly difficult to undo.

Bella was sleeping now, her hair strewn about the backseat, her scraggly long bangs draped in her eyes. I smiled, thinking that she must've been thoroughly exhausted, mentally, from our talk earlier, for she was dead to the world, though it was only mid-afternoon.

Once we began driving, the others' minds were relatively bearable. Esme and Carlisle were talking softly about school for Bella once we arrived at our destination, Emmett was absently watching some sports channel on his cell-phone-turned-television-screen. Rosalie was primping all the while in her mirror—what for, I couldn't imagine, Jasper was thinking quietly about nothing in general, as could be expected, and Alice was listening to some music set at a low volume.

For once, it was quiet. Tranquil. Peaceful. I sighed a little in gratitude.

It was absolute stillness. The cars on the road were slow, and we surpassed them. My mind was trained on sharp, attentive police-like thoughts, and detected none.

The sun was setting down to my left, dipping down into a pool of dark gold.

Night was falling.

So relaxing.

*** *** ***

Of course, that sense of relaxation was bound to end, too, like all good things.

Bella woke with a yawn and blinked. She sat up and gazed out the window, and confusion slowly dawned on her line-streaked face, marked from several hours of sleeping with her cheek on an intersection of the seams on the seat. "What time is it?" she asked me.

"Eleven seventeen," I replied curtly.

She blinked out at the dark night sky, the near-deserted freeway, save for my family—"coven". "Wow," she muttered. "Guess I must've been exhausted. Hmm. Supernatural creatures messing up my sleep cycle," she muttered under her breath, shifting around to sit up more comfortably.

I couldn't help it—at her last comment, I chuckled.

"I'm not even kidding!" she said. "Seriously! I'm exhausted! What, do you guys suck energy instead of blood?"

_Wow,_ Emmett thought, having been momentarily amused by our exchange. _She's got a point there! I always knew she was a little genius! _

Since when, O Elder Brother?

_Maybe we should stop_, Esme thought, always the concerned maternal figure. _She might be hungry, and we'll just keep an eye out for an exit._

"Bella, are you hungry?" I asked. "I assumed so, since your rant on how low you were on energy," I couldn't help adding.

"Yeah," she admitted, and then her stomach emitted a low gurgling sound. Her face turned a cute, bright pink and she clutched her arms around her midsection.

The corners of my mouth tugged, but I did not laugh.

"Where would you like to eat?" I asked. We were well out of Washington by now, and there were little towns dotted every fifteen miles or so, consisting of nothing more than a handful of houses, dining places—the majority amongst them fast food places, gas stations, and the occasional school.

"Um…I don't know. Not McDonald's, I guess. Wherever is okay."

I shot her a knowing look through the rearview mirror and cruised across lanes so I pulled up alongside Alice, who gave me a silent greeting and waved her hand.

"Don't lie to me, Bella," I said. "You don't know any other restaurants or anything, do you?" Forks only had a McDonald's; there were two or three pizza places; the rest of the food places were all diners and restaurants—fast food places were few and far between.

"Of course!" she said, defensively—or should I amend myself, _overly_ defensive. Her eyes shifted from the rearview mirror and right out the window.

"Name three."

"Uh…." Ah-hah. Caught her.

"See," I reprimanded Bella. "This is why you don't try to lie to us. I mean, _you_'ll probably be able to get away with a thing or two over the years, but just because you have the advantage over me here." Just talking about it brought me a sting, a bite, feeling that my power, which had been so very useful and quite possibly one of the most important powers in our coven, had loopholes. Loopholes a seven-year-old could navigate through.

She huffed, crossing her arms. "Fine. Wherever is okay."

My family, having caught the exchange, were smiling mental grins.

Bella finally fell silent, and the only sounds were the swishing of the wind against the car, the soft hum of the engine, and Bella's fidgeting and breathing.

Then, two minutes and some later, we passed a blue highway sign featuring the upcoming highway stop.

_We'll turn here_, Carlisle thought, shifting over one lane.

I leaned my head back, my hair swishing over the back of the seat. I closed my eyes momentarily, not out of exhaustion, but simply to try and recapture the peace which once was.

It didn't happen.

[/EPOV]

*** *** ***

[BPOV]

Edward hit the gas after the drive-thru lady, with a tired, yawning face, unconvincing welcomes, and reeking of coffee, handed us our—or should I say _my_—order.

Arby's, this place was called.

I looked in and saw a soft drink—after I took a sip of it, I confirmed it was Sprite, or 7-Up, or _some_ kind of fizzy, clear soda, fries, a sandwich or hamburger of some sort, and napkins.

"Thanks for stopping," I whispered, when we were flying through the night again, the windows opened three or four inches.

Edward stiffened, and then relaxed.

"You're welcome," he said, his voice distant.

I didn't know boys had mood swings, too. My books were always talking about how moody girls were, but boys?

_Well, I wouldn't try to risk his wrath,_ a part of me cautioned. _He's a vampire. Cold and hard and pale and strong and fast and could kill you before you even knew you were being attacked. I'm sure you'd enjoy that._

Oh, all right. I'd be nice to him.

I bit into the warm sandwich—ham and cheese, I could identify—and then sipped the soda again. Edward exhaled sharply and shook his head ever so slightly. "Ugh," he muttered. "The _smell_."

Internally, I smiled a bit too smugly. Maybe this one primary human need—food—would be my key to keeping Edward Cullen annoyed without channeling his anger toward me. Perfect-o!

After who-knew-how-long, I finished my food with small, mincing bites, and drank my soda with tiny, drop-sized sips. I carefully squashed all the cardboard, placed it inside the paper bag, and rolled it up tightly. I then placed it on the floor by my feet, and stretched out across the backseat again, staring up at the light beige—seemingly gray in the minimal light—ceiling, and wished for sleep.

Sleep never found me.

"Edward?" I asked timidly, five minutes later. "I'm bored."

To my surprise, he just shook his head and cracked a smile. "What?" I demanded, almost about to explode with annoyance. It was as if he always knew something I didn't know and he was rubbing it in my face. It was driving me crazy!

"I was expecting that question sooner or later," he told me, his eyes still fixed on the road. "I just wasn't expecting for you to hold out this long."

"Great," I said sarcastically. "I proved you wrong. Goody for me. Now can we go back to fixing my boredom problem?"

Edward shook his head. "Sorry, Bella. Unless you want to pore through my travel CDs right now, I have nothing for you to busy yourself with."

I sat up. "Can I see the CDs?" I asked. "'Cause anything would be better than just sitting here."

He reached down and fumbled around a bit below his seat, and then came up with a handful of CDs, stacked together. He reached down again, and a third time, and finally, I had all the CDs.

"Have fun," he said.

"I can't see," I complained.

"Oh." He frowned. "That's right. Humans have weak night sight." He pressed a button, and the light on the ceiling flashed on.

I curled up, folding my arms around my knees. "Stop making me feel so…I don't know, weak and so _human_ next to you guys," I mumbled.

He snorted. "Well, excuse _me_, I don't _make_ you feel anything," he retorted.

I sensed the beginnings of an all-out intellectual debate, but I still couldn't help saying, "When the human mind is used to feeling inferior, it stays that way, _smart one_."

Edward just stared forward, his face smooth and motionless, not giving away any signs of irritation or anger. He sounded a bit amused as he shook his head gently and said, "I can't believe I have to baby-sit you for the rest of your childhood. It's a very cruel and unusual punishment, indeed," he mused.

"For whom?" I muttered. "Sounds like the punishment's for me. And what's that about me being baby-sat?" I asked curiously, at the end, unable to help myself.

"Well, I've already morphed into the role of full-time baby-sitter, and so I'm assuming I'll remain so for the rest of my life," he explained. "Plus, Alice saw it."

I sighed. "Cruel and unusual punishment, indeed," I said.

Edward stilled for a minute, and then just said to me, "Why don't you go back to sleep again?"

[/BPOV]

*** *** ***

[EPOV]

Only when I heard Bella's breaths turn into little snores did I finally allow myself to take a deep breath and relax.

_She's a handful_, Jasper thought. _Clever mind, too._

"And how would you know that, O Psychotic Vampire?" I asked sardonically.

_Funny._

Emmett chuckled over in his own massive Jeep. _The baby-sitting part was great, though,_ he thought. _You just signed your own death warrant. Well, you always did complain about being so bored the week after you'd finished covering every possible detail of a certain subject_.

"There goes the peace and quiet of a few hours ago," I snapped at them, the edge in my voice telling them to, frankly, _shut up._

_Peace?_ Jasper asked in genuine surprise.

Emmett chuckled. _Peace? Since when?_

I put my foot down—figuratively. "Since now," I commanded, decisively.

[/EPOV]

*** *** ***

[BPOV]

I woke up in a strange bed.

Wow, it's déjà vu all over again.

I stretched my arms, yawning, then froze and scanned my eyes over the room, in case there was a vampire watching me. Finding none, I relaxed and finished my stretch.

The room was a little bit bare, probably because no one had lived in it much before we came here. I figured that we were already in our new home, since it was too finished to be a hotel room. The curtains were pink, with cream-colored lace on the bottom edge. Very old-fashioned.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Um, come in," I said.

The door opened, and Esme stepped through. She smiled when she saw me. "So, what do you think, Bella?" she asked.

My brain didn't react so quickly. "About what?"

"Your new room, of course. Your new house. This is it, Bella."

I grinned. "Well, this is just one room. I think this house is pretty mansion-like, too."

"Well," she said. "You're right about that." She laid down an armful of clothes. "You can wear that today, but I think Alice might take you clothes shopping later, maybe in the afternoon."

"Oh, no," I whispered.

Esme laughed. "Don't worry, Alice _can_ control herself. Are you hungry?" she added with concern.

"A little bit," I admitted. "Wait, what time is it?" I thought suddenly. There was very little light shining into my window—the vampires were very good at picking the areas to live in, because the sky outside was very overcast—and I remembered falling asleep sometime after eleven p.m.

"About ten," Esme said.

"Okay, then," I said, crawling out of bed. "Guess it's time to get out of bed, anyway."

Esme pointed to a door to my left. "The bathroom's over there."

I nodded, picked up the pile of clothes, and stepped into the bathroom. Behind me, I heard a very soft click of the door, and knew that Esme had stepped out.

Closing the door to the bathroom, I took it in with one glance. White walls, a toilet, a walk-in shower, a sink. Very basic, but it was good.

I changed, and found toiletries in the small cupboard below the sink.

After I'd brushed my teeth and splashed water on my face, I dashed out of the room, and headed down the nearest staircase I could find. It led me to what appeared to be the den, and I saw blurry figures.

_Wait, what?_

Upon closer inspection, I saw they were the forms of two of the vampires—I couldn't tell who—moving at quick speed. They were just semi-transparent streaks of white.

One of the streaks suddenly stopped in front of me—Alice. She laughed when she saw the look on my face—a mix of I'm-not-quite-awake-yet, shock, and hunger.

"Yeah, I think that might have freaked you out a little bit," she said comfortably. "I'm surprised you got down here by yourself. This place isn't that big, but it's confusing."

_Not that big?_

"Sure," I muttered.

"Now…I think you might want some breakfast…"

"You thought right."

She chuckled. "Well, we don't have anything here at the moment, but Jasper's about a block away, with groceries, and he's saying 'good morning'."

I grinned. "Good morning to you too, Jasper," I said, knowing he could hear me.

Less than ten seconds later, I could hear gravel crunching under the force of tires outside. My stomach jumped in happiness. Food!

The door opened, and Jasper stepped in, carrying three bulging bags marked with Wal-Mart. "'Morning, Bella," he said, with that small Southern accent. "Hope you're hungry—so many food choices at these stores nowadays, I hardly know what to get," he joked, setting the bags down.

I rummaged through them and found a box of Cheerios, milk, juice, quite a few frozen pizzas and other frozen food, bread, cheese, fresh produce, and some other small food things. "It's good, Jasper. Thanks." I felt like an inconvenience, all of a sudden, because I was the only one who ate at all and the others had to go out of their way to keep my hunger at bay.

"No problem."

Alice disappeared, and then reappeared again by my side, with a glass in hand. I nodded my thanks to her and took it, pouring milk inside it and putting the gallon-sized bottle in the refrigerator. I opened the box of Cheerios and started to eat them straight from the box, one by one.

Jasper and Alice sat down at the table, near me, and started to talk. I didn't know what they were talking _about_. Their lips were pale pink blurs, and their conversation was a soft, low hum. I downed my glass of milk, finished off some more Cheerios, and carried my glass to the sink. I washed it out and set it off to the side, not seeing a dishwasher anywhere. It was strange, having only one cup to rinse. Usually, Charlie used so many plates and bowls that I could barely get the dishes done every night.

Alice and Jasper had both stood up, and led me away from the kitchen, when I turned.

"Now," Alice said. "Here is the official tour of our Maine home."

* * *

**AN: Maine. Yes. I **_**think**_** that's cloudy plenty of the time. Sorry this chapter's kind of short. School…stuff…sports…music…the like.**

**So, help me here. How big should their house be? How many stories? Square feet? Rooms?**

**Yeah…that's about it.**

**Review! **

**Please?**

**God loves you.**


	6. Chapter 6: Settled

**AN: Sorry for the long (o_0) wait! My computer had a huge breakdown due to a virus, and everything (EVERYTHING) was wiped out completely. All of the documents were wiped out, and I don't even have Microsoft Word. (I'm typing this at school.) This is going to be written in increments of about five minutes per day (or however long the teacher continues to ignore what I'm doing in Tech Studies), so some parts might be inconsistent. Plus, I didn't type for like two weeks because I slipped into a mourning state for my erased iTunes library (feel free to feel sorry for me ;).**

* * *

[EPOV]

I led Bella around our house, as one would call it. As soon as she stepped into the house, her eyes went huge. I suppose it was justified - this house had a century and a half's worth of history.

She wandered around, placing her hand on the stone fireplace, the polished banister, and stared at everything as if the cavern of a living room were a museum exhibit.

It was somehow comforting, not dissimilar to relieving an ache you did not know was there, to see her act like her age, instead of three or four years older. Along with that feeling of comfort came a bigger sense of responsibility, of caring for one other than yourself.

I'd felt it very few times in my very long life...well, existence.

This feeling, it must be akin to what being a parent would feel like, I realized with a jolt.

Bella tugged on my sleeve, and questions came firing one after another. The same question too, I might add.

"Whatsthat!"

"It's an antique vase."

"Whatsthat!"

"It's a Russian crown from a while back - "

"Whatsthat!"

"It's a chandelier dating back to - "

"Whatsthat!"

"It's an original painting that came with the house when we - "

"Whatsthat!"

"For goodness' sakes, Bella, it's a table!"

"Oh. I knew that."

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose to relieve some stress. Bella was bouncing around, looking at everything with bright eyes, as if having just been introduced to the world. I had the feeling that my replies to all of her highly enthusiastic "Whatsthat!"s had been paid little attention.

"How many stories is this?" she asked, looking toward the spiraling marble staircase.

"Three," I said. "Four, if you include the attic - but it's just a small storage room."

Before I finished the second phrase of my sentence, Bella had already begun to climb the staircase. I just watched to make sure she didn't slip.

She reached the second floor, and she disappeared from my sight. I could hear the footsteps pound above me as she ran down the hall, opening and closing every door to every room.

"Edward! Look!"

Seeing as I was probably going to serve as her servant-slash-babysitter for the next few days, I picked myself up and dashed up the marble stairs with ease. I found her at the very end of the hallway, standing in the doorway of the last bedroom.

When I reached her, she pointed toward the opposite wall - or should I say, window. The entire wall, ceiling-to-floor, was just thick, smooth glass.

I had nearly forgotten about this room, as none of us lived in it the last time around. Honestly, if I were to wander about and find this room on my own, I wouldn't have thought twice about it. But looking at Bella, her childish wonder as she slid the backs of her pale hands across a two-feet stretch of glass, I could come to recognize some of the impressive features of the room - the domed ceiling, the brightness of the white walls, the marvelous view the wide window provided. On the other side, there was a decent view over a hillside dotted with pine trees. I spotted a small creek winding through, and could hear a dull rush and splash from where it ran over a few rocks. The scattered pine trees accumulated until it turned into a coniferous forest at the very right of our view.

Good hunting. I remembered the distinct flavor of Maine animals. It was just...different. Of course, to find larger predators of my (and Emmett's) preference, we'd have to travel out some more to find a mountain or another forest.

Children see things with different eyes. Maybe there was some truth to that old saying.

Bella's voice interrupted my reverie. "Can I have this room?" she asked, expectantly.

"You want it?"

"Duh!"

I looked around. It was right next to the bathroom in the hallway, and it had a nice closet - I couldn't really find fault with the room. There was also a window-seat, and a tall bookcase next to it; perfect for a bookworm like Bella.

"Sure."

Bella jumped up and hugged me, nearly taking me by surprise (not the easiest thing to do). She dashed back down the hallway, and down the stairs, yelling "Esme! I picked out my room!"

"That's great, dear," I heard Esme reply.

I just shook my head at how quickly trains of thought entered and left Bella's head. "And here I was, under the impression that she wanted to see the top floor," I murmured, as Emmett came up the stairs.

Emmett laughed at my expression. "Ha, Bella?" he remarked, amusement laced in his tone. "She loves you already, Edward." In a softer voice, he added, "Maybe this will be different for all of us. Having a younger kid to take care of, you know? Maybe we can retain some degree of normalcy that we would have in a human life, at this time."

"I...yes," I agreed. "Maybe."

_Try to keep her innocent, eh? _He thought in his mind, and chuckled as I smacked my forehead with my palm. _Hey, Rose and I'll try, but no promises._

I cringed away from his words, and a smile spread across his face, even wider than the usual. _Man, if you had a girl, you would totally sympathize with us. You know, we'd been thinking about this for a while - _

"Yes, I know you have," I muttered, glaring sideways at him.

_...but you should consider that one girl, Tanya? Yeah. You know, she likes you. Well, you'd have to go all the way across Canada to see her. But I mean, it's not like you've got anyone else in your life other than Bella, and I don't really think she counts...._

I sighed. "Yes, and I really care, Emmett," I said sarcastically. "I am totally unwanted by all members of the female species, and I am so lonely that I might just cry. I am so desperate for a girlfriend that I am going all the way over to Alaska - from Maine - to see Tanya. Definitely." All delivered in a babbling monotone.

Emmett merely smirked again. Aloud, he commented, "Well, it takes the burden of baby-sitter off our shoulders. Good luck!" And with that, he ran up to the third floor to join Rosalie. _We gotta break in our "new" bedroom tonight...._

I blocked his mind, wanting to give him a few swipes across his face, though Esme would give me the dreaded lecture every maternal figure knows how to give. Living with someone like Emmett, who was so old, it was amazing to see the standstill of mental - and maturity - growth along with the physical.

I strolled down the hall at an even slower pace than usual, pausing near the staircase. From there, I could see the entire layout of the house. If the building were cut in half vertically, the side I was on would be the one with bedrooms and studies and bathrooms, etc. The other side was one very tall living room, with no obstructions from the roof to the ground, save for the chandelier. There was a banister along the open side of the hallway, and the same was repeated for the third floor. It was almost like a hotel setting, one with the doors facing in. Coincidentally, this house (or mansion, really) would almost be big enough for a hotel.

Continuing, I stopped at the bedroom on the opposite side of the long hallway - the bedroom which would probably be over the kitchen on the first floor. Twisting the doorknob and opening the door, I examined the room. Plain, with one desk, a tall bookcase, and a rather large window - though not wall-sized, not even close to Bella's window. A luxurious-looking black leather couch with golden accents sat in the space between the bottom of the window and the floor.

I'd never been too choosy, so I would be fine with whichever room I would be given. Usually, in a new home, Esme and Carlisle would just choose for me, since I wouldn't bother to. However, I wanted this room. I thought that this room was in a pretty good spot, so I could be near Bella, should she need me when she was in her room.

Bella. Huh.

_Babysitter_, I thought gloomily. _This is so sad - it's as if all my thoughts are now centered around her. __Since when did I care about a kid so much?_

[/EPOV]

*** *** ***

[BPOV]

I flopped down on the soft, springy bed, totally happy with the events up until now.

Esme had aired out the sheets on my bed, and beat the dust out of the pillows. After my high from finding the most amazing bedroom in the history of amazing bedrooms, I had climbed up and down the house all day, exploring every nook and cranny. Alice went out on a grocery run and returned with bags of food, some too healthy - but even that couldn't make me mad. I was so totally happy right now.

I took some deep breaths to calm myself down, running my hand across my pajamas.

After I felt like I could stand without having to jump up and down, I changed into my sleepwear and trekked out and over to the bathroom right next to my room.

When I was done brushing my teeth, I stepped back into my own bedroom and turned off the lights. I could hear soft murmurs from the rooms down from mine - Alice' and Jasper's, and another one Edward's - since it obviously wasn't bedtime for them.

I hopped into bed and fell asleep.

*** *** ***

I sat up suddenly, waking myself from my sleep.

It took me a minute or two to figure out why.

_Thud._

_ Th-thump._

_ Crash!_

_ Creak, creak, THUD._

I stepped cautiously out of bed and to the door. I pulled it open and stepped into the hallway.

The door at the far end of the hallway also opened, and Edward was a blur as he made his way over to me. "What's the problem, Bella?" he asked, a mixture of expressions on his face as he glanced up.

"Um, there were thuds and sounds from upstairs, and...."

Edward closed his eyes and muttered something incomprehensible. "I'll be right back," he told me, and was gone and back.

The noises stopped.

"All right, now, you can go back to sleep," he told me.

Curiosity overcame me. "What was it?" I asked.

"Oh, just Emmett and Rosalie," he said in an offhand way. "Now go off to bed."

But I understood what he wasn't telling me.

I went back to bed, disturbing images haunting my dreams.

[/BPOV]

*** *** ***

[EPOV]

Maybe Emmett and Rosalie should move one up to the attic. Be less of a disturbance.

As their bed upstairs rocked from one side to another, I groaned and held my hands to my head, pressing hard, as Emmett's mind harrassed my own with searing images.

Alice and Jasper were keeping PG-13, thank God.

As Emmett muttered something I fear to repeat, I came up with another brilliant solution to this mindless, mental torment.

_A basement would be better._

[/EPOV]

* * *

**AN: Sorry if it's kind of short. This is basically just an introduction to the house. And about the last little part...I know it's lame, but I just couldn't help putting that part in.**

**My updates will probably be shorter and fewer up until next (calendar) year, because I have, oh, let's see...a piano competition, a music theory exam, the SATs, a math midterm exam, and yet another test in History. Commitments, busy schedule, yes. Plus, I'm going on vacation over winter break.**

**I'll try to squeeze another chapter in before then.**

**Happy early Thanksgiving...**

**Review!**

**Oh, and thanks to the reviewers who gave me ideas for the house. Here's a question of opinion: would you like to see another chapter or two of Bella at the same age, or would you want to skip ahead in her life? I'm getting a little tired of writing for a little kid myself :)**

**Review and tell me! **


	7. Chapter 7: Problems

**AN: As promised, the next chapter (before winter break!). So, it looks like lots of people want Bella to grow up. I admit, I am getting a bit tired of little Bella, myself. She's going to grow up :D**

* * *

A few days after we had settled into our home, I went to school. So did the Cullens, Edward and Alice being "ninth graders", and Emmett, Rosalie and Jasper a year ahead. They settled into a comfortable daily routine, including me. On weekends, the family always did something fun - camping, for example.

I was perfectly happy.

*** *** ***

_Five years later! Bella's thirteen! Plus, they'd moved again._

[BPOV]

It was a gloomy, blustery day in western Oregon.

I stood still on the street outside the school, ignoring the winds that whipped her hair around her face, tickling me. I was gripping my shiny black cell phone in one hand, the other holding tightly onto the fence. There was just a little problem.

At school today, during lunchtime, I'd gotten my first period. If I went home...well, I didn't _want _to imagine what would happen. Edward would go berserk and most likely kill me, and...well....

_Calling would probably avoid unpleasantness for both human and vampire parties_, I thought wryly.

Taking a deep breath, I punched in the house number and waited for Esme to pick up.

"Bella?"

"Esme," I began, not sure how to say this. "Um...I...got my period?" It came out as a question, dripping uncertainty.

"Oh," the voice on the other end of the phone said. "Oh, dear." There was a short pause, and Esme resumed talking. "I don't want to think of Edward's reaction to this," she mumbled mostly to herself.

I, still holding the phone to her ear, slid down on the ground to lean back against the fence.

"Are there any friends you can stay with?" Esme asked hesitantly.

"No," I admitted.

It wasn't just that I had no friends to stay with, it was that I had no friends at all. The excitement of a new kid quickly dwindled away as I continued to keep to herself, to speak only when necessary, and to wear clothes that the "popular" girls frowned upon. Thus, I became a loner, speaking only when spoken to.

Maybe my brain was programmed wrong, but I didn't crave attention or comradeship as the other people at school did. Well, not _human_ attention, anyway.

I heard mumbling on the other end of the phone, a kind of buzzing, almost, and then Esme spoke again.

"Edward claims he's fine if you come home." Esme began to sound worried. "He promises nothing will happen. Jasper says the same, and Alice...well, she's seen nothing bad so far."

"So I should come home?" I asked.

Esme chuckled. "Of course," she said. "I'll be out to get some...sanitary supplies, but I'll be back when you get home."

"Okay. Bye."

I flipped my phone shut and heaved a loud sigh. Why did I have to...get it? It just made everything complicated. I started walking forward slowly, heading toward the forest behind the school. A path through the forest conveniently connected our home to the school. A raindrop from a leaf on the tree above my head landed in my hair, and I shook her head, the coolness against my skull strangely uncomfortable.

After walking for five minutes, I saw the white driveway...and then the porch...and finally the whole house. Esme was just stepping out of her car with a small grocery bag in hand. She turned, saw me, and headed over to give me a big, squeezing hug. I went limp in Esme's strong arms, and just when I thought Esme was about to suffocate me, she stepped back.

"Are you okay, honey?" Esme asked, concern etched in her face. "Cramps? Pains? Anything?" She started to lead me into the house, her arm still around me.

I shook my head, but inside, I was surprised Esme remembered all the problems with periods, since she probably hadn't had one since...a while ago.

My puzzled expression must've showed, because Esme laughed and said, "Oh, come on. My memory's not that bad."

And her tone also made me chuckle, as well. But then I remembered the current problem at hand, and I sobered again.

"Are they inside?" I asked. "Edward? Jasper?"

"Oh, no," Esme said. "They're out hunting. I told them to take precautions. Edward keeps saying he's fine." Esme patted my shoulder. "If he says he's fine, he will be. Don't worry."

I nodded, took the proffered grocery bag, and went upstairs to my bathroom.

[/BPOV]

***

[EPOV]

After draining one deer, I was in no mood to do anything else. Bella had her period?! And why didn't Alice see that?

"Why didn't Alice see that?" I mumbled, partly to myself.

Jasper took one glance at me and suddenly turned all patronizing. "Edward," he admonished me. "Alice's vision isn't, you know, an exact science. Besides, Bella wasn't in any danger...so Alice had no reason to look out for her."

"Yes, but--"

_You know what, Edward?_ he asked. _Shut up and deal with it. That's what the rest of us are doing. And if you don't think you can stand it, feel free to camp out _here_ for a week._

I sighed--I knew Jasper was right. "Sure," I muttered acidly. "Deal with it. Uh-huh."

Jasper leaned back against the trunk of a tree. "Here's some advice," he said, his voice still calm and untroubled. "_Don't_ get involved in this. Don't let Bella catch on to what you're thinking next to her. Stay out of...girl troubles. Let Esme and Alice deal with it."

"Girl troubles. _Lovely_," I remarked sarcastically.

"That's what they are."

"Ah-hem, I think _I'm_ the mind reader here?" I said suggestively.

"You're not using that supernatural mind to good use, then."

*** *** ***

Oh, and here we go again....

My body went rigid the moment I stepped over the threshold into the house...no, before I had stepped in. The overwhelming, sweet scent blasted me in the face. I knew it was so sick, absolutely _sick_, but nevertheless, Bella's blood still smelled as enticing as ever before.

_Don't move. Everything's fine, Edward_, Alice warned me. _Bella's going through a very emotional time right now and needs all our support, not the knowledge that someone wants to kill her._

Her words were so _formatted - "Bella's going through a very emotional time_" - that I couldn't help but crack the tiniest smile.

_Screw you._

[/EPOV]

***

[BPOV]

_"Goddang_it, it hurts!" I mumbled as I curled up once again. Cramps rippled through me, and I gritted my teeth.

Alice flew into the room. "Hot chocolate, pronto!" she said cheerily as she handed me a steaming mug. I grabbed it by the handle, shooting her a meaningful look. How could she be so darn cheerful when it - "OW!"

"Oh, sorry," Alice said, perching on the foot of my bed. "So...how are you? Good? Fine?"

"Do I _look_ like I'm fine?"

Alice jumped up again. "You do have a point," she said. "Well, at least it's Saturday. Cramps won't last too long...so...feel better!" With that, she flew out of my bedroom again, leaving me curled up and sipping the hot liquid.

Guys have it so much easier.

[/BPOV]

* * *

**AN: Sorry this was so short. Ahhhh.....SATs are done, music theory exam tomorrow, FML.**

**The last line is true, by the way. SO true. **

**Review? :3**


	8. Chapter 8: Boyfriends

**AN****：I'm going to be getting a laptop soon, which means more typing time…yay****！ And you know what more typing time means…quicker, longer chapters! (Right now, it's just too much trouble to drag my behind downstairs, wait 15 minutes for the computer to load, launch Word and get it randomly shut down every 15 minutes.) So don't yell at me if these months are tough, kay? Mid-Ts are coming up, and the teachers are worse and worse every day, so I'll try, but it probably won't be good.**

**Because of popular demand, I made this chapter longer! (You're welcome, by the way. No, really.)**

**So, we fast-forward in time! (A lot.)**

**Enjoy.**

**Bella age 16!**

* * *

[EPOV]

Another one.

Yet another young, immature _boyfriend_.

Bella's footsteps were scraping up against the winding, concrete driveway. Following her footfalls were another set, slower and heavier, more plodding.

Another one she'd dragged home for Esme and Carlisle to meet. However, the ultimate betrayal was that Esme and Carlisle, whom I'd always known to be _rational_ and _logical_, encouraged her each time! To see her bring a new one back, every few weeks, brought joy and warmth to their hearts, to see her so.

I didn't see it.

Call me cold-hearted and apathetic, but I truly didn't.

The pair wasn't even halfway across the driveway yet and I could tell that this one might be setting the new record for the stupidest boy she's ever brought home. His thoughts were slow, and I knew he was dumbly nodding up and down, up and down, at everything Bella said, a bobble-head doll. Every now and then he would laugh a slow, stupid chuckle, and Bella would prattle on like nothing had happened.

Yes, the little human of the family had experienced quite a change.

She'd gone from the quiet and brainy girl at the back of the classroom to the center of attention in just a few years. She'd slimmed down and stretched out, and her features turned beautiful—overnight, it seemed. In public, many a man's thoughts turned to her, so many that I had to glare at their filthy eyes protectively. This new sister of mine, this social butterfly, skipped from boy to boy, raising the hopes of many, disappointing more. I'd not the heart to tell her _my_ thoughts, not while she looked so happy, but when I talked to Carlisle and Esme, they were quite surprised! They found nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with that arrangement, and moreover, Alice and Rosalie were of no help to my cause either. Emmett and Jasper would never take my argument against their girls', so I remain alone in my cause.

The front door swung open, and the two sets of feet stomped through. I heard shoes being kicked off, but I stayed right where I was—in my little corner of the kitchen we so rarely use, glowering.

"Esme!" Bella hollered.

_Oh, another fine young man,_ Esme thought, excitement poisoning her brain. She appeared next to me. "Come on in, sweetie," she called, pretending she was in the kitchen all along.

Alice came up behind me. "Another one," she whispered. "She chose this one with rather poor taste, all right; look at him!" she hissed in my ear.

And look at him I did.

Physically speaking, there was nothing wrong with this _kid_. He was rather tall; he had a messy mop of sandy hair on his head, flopping into his eyes; well-muscled; facial features smooth and straight; but one could see in his eyes the lack of luster, the dullness of his mind. I'd seen him before in the school, I was sure; however, his mind was not particularly sharp or very outstanding.

"Poor taste," Alice repeated behind me.

Meanwhile, Esme had glided up to him warmly and shook his hand, welcoming him in. Like all the others, Mike was curious at Esme's skin temperature, but decided not to peruse into this anomaly. Bella introduced each of us in turn. Alice put on her usual happy face and met him, but _my _face remained hard and cold—statue-like, for sure—while Bella once again rolled her eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh at my unwelcoming demeanor.

"Well," she said at last. "Mike and I are going to be upstairs working on our history project. We'll be up there if you need us." The pair ran up the staircase and into Bella's bedroom. She didn't close it; we could hear the sounds of materials shuffling about, low conversation, and an occasional laugh.

I sighed and slowly started toward the staircase, when one word, loud, sharp and clear, broke into my thoughts.

_Jealousy._

I heard Jasper's thought just as clearly as if he'd said it out loud. He, Emmett and Rosalie were just coming in through the garage door.

"What?!" I demanded.

_Jealousy. I just said it!_

"Now, you _know_ that's not what I mean," I hissed. My hands were clenching into fists, now, and I'd turned toward him, as if looking straight at him would explain his outrageous ideas.

_Jealousy. Believe it or not, Edward, I sometimes know more about you than you do yourself. You're never happy with any of the boys she brings home. You know, that's actually part of the reason she's going through so many guys—she wants your approval. But you'll never approve._

I glared at him. "So what are you implying?" I finally asked.

_You love her. And you want her for yourself, not for a human._

"Bullshit," I said, cursing for the first time in quite a while—it's not my _style_, so to speak, to use profane language, but nothing else quite described my attitude toward his conclusion. "I want the best for Bella. She'll find that right guy sometime, somewhere."

"You keep telling yourself that," Jasper replied, calm and serene. "But I'd suspected it for a while, now."

Alice's eyes were narrowed, darting between us, trying to decipher something. The rest ignored our little half-conversation, having learned a long, long time ago that it was a waste of mind power to try.

_You're in denial. But no matter what you say to me now, you _know _you're jealous. That little twisting of your gut every time one of her guys come home, that little twinge; you try to write it off as disapproval, but it's jealousy. And it's got to stop! You want a good future for her, a _human_ future, just as much as the rest of us._

I gave him one last glare and shot out the front door.

[/EPOV]

*** *** ***

[BPOV]

_Knock, knock, knock._

"Come in," I said, not lifting my eyes from the line of text. The door opened, and soft footsteps entered my room.

I looked up and saw Edward, looking rather ill at ease, hovering by the wide-open door.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

I sighed and closed the book, keeping my place with my finger. "Are you here to lecture me about Mike?" I asked with a resigned sigh.

He slowly closed the door and approached my bed—much slower than his usual brisk way of going about things. "Not exactly," he said, slowly and quietly. He sat down on the very edge of my bed. And then, in a rush:

"Bella, this needs to stop."

"What?"

"This…bringing back all these…boyfriends!" he said, not looking at me, but his voice was considerably stronger now. "It's not right. Girls who do that are…people think of them as...well, it slowly damages their reputations." His beautiful voice sounded strange and twisted as he tried to avoid a certain word. I could guess that word was _sluts_.

So he was saying that I was one, huh? A small part of me, amid my anger, said that I _had _been acting rather peculiar in my dating ways. All the other girls stayed with their boyfriends for at least a few weeks, and had a gap between boyfriends.

But I was too far gone.

"Are you implying what I think you're implying, Edward?" I demanded. "It's none of your business who I spend my time with! Why would you care, anyway? We'll be moving in no time, or I'll go off to college, and I'll never see any of these people again! It's not like I'm knocked up or something! God, Edward, I'm a...a _virgin_! Why would you think otherwise?"

He cringed, and for one short second, I felt guilty for my harsh words. Then his face abruptly smoothed over. "All right," he conceded. "I suppose it is your business, and not mine." He tried to search for words, and then he nodded awkwardly toward the book in my hands. "How's the book, by the way?"

The book I held was _Jane Eyre._ "It's all right," I responded, glad to be away from the previous topic, though this new conversation was sufficiently awkward. "I mean, I'm at the part where they're all speaking French, and I can't understand a…." I trailed off when I noticed him staring at me in a strange way. "What?" I demanded.

A strange little smile curved his lips. "Nothing," he said. "So you said there was French? I could translate."

He moved over and began to read.

[/BPOV]

*** *** ***

[EPOV]

"So, what was that about?" Emmett asked keenly, as I came into the family room. Bella was asleep by now.

Emmett was lounging on the couch, and he and Jasper were flipping through the TV channels. Alice was cuddled in Jasper's arms, and looked up at me, silently asking the same question.

Jasper glanced at me, before looking away. _Do tell,_ he challenged. _Not that we don't know what happened._

I glared at him and looked away, not answering his challenge.

"Really, though," Esme said from her position against Carlisle's shoulder. "I don't understand why you'd choose to lecture Bella about her boyfriends? I'll admit, I do think they're a bit much, but as long as she's happy, I have no qualms about it."

Emmett looked up at me. "She's fitting in," he added. "You know how she'd had troubles with that in the past. It's better, now that she's not perpetually quiet, or withdrawn...."

I looked away. "I just have this bad feeling," I lied, faking an explanation for my reasoning. "That something's going to happen with one of her boyfriends, one day."

On the couch, Emmett promptly burst out into big, shaking fits of laughter.

Alice chuckled, reaching out her hand to pat my own. "Leave the fortune-telling to me, Edward," she said patronizingly. "You know, you're being so paranoid it isn't even funny."

[/EPOV]

_A _*** _few _*** _days _*** _later..._

[BPOV]

I broke up with Mike.

I couldn't help it.

He was an idiotic moron.

*** *** ***

Today, there was a new student in class. He was quite attractive—he had long, blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and a sharp, intelligent face. I couldn't but help staring at him in English and Government. I think he looked back at me once, but I just blushed and looked down.

His name was James. James fit in perfectly with the crowd. All the girls swooned after him, and all the guys tried to be his best friend. I never worked up the nerve to talk to him today—he seemed so occupied, and it would be a record for me if I dated another guy one day after my previous breakup.

At the end of the day, on my way to the parking lot, I was so deep in reverie—all right, in thinking about James—that I tripped on my way out the door.

A laugh came from behind me. "What, can't you walk without smashing yourself on the concrete?" an amused voice said.

I whirled around to see the very occupant of my thoughts for the last five minutes standing—no, _towering_—behind me, with a smirk on that face. I instantly grew indignant. "Yeah," I answered, standing up. "I can." I started to pick my books up when he swooped down and retrieved them for me.

"I'm sorry," he said, but the trace of a smile was still there. "Here, how about I walk you over to your car? Just so you don't stumble and fall again under the weight of all these books?"

In a burst of courage, I reached out and smacked his arm—not enough to hurt, just flirtatiously. "That's enough, now," I said, pretending to be put out.

He walked me over to my new, used truck, and opened the driver's door for me. "Thanks," I said, as I stepped into the car. He handed me my books and I stacked them on the passenger seat.

I started to close the door, but he held it open. "Uh, listen…", he began. "Can I take you out tomorrow night? Just for dinner, I mean."

Well.

That was quite out of the blue. He didn't sound like he was joking with me, nor did he sound reluctant. But I couldn't understand how he would ask me out after knowing me for the duration of one walk between the school and my beat-up truck.

I may have been staring at him, because he added, "To apologize for laughing at you," with a smile.

Well, then.

He was still waiting for an answer, and I was still mentally debating myself. After a moment, I just gave up. "All right," I said.

He laughed. "I'm glad I managed to persuade you so _quickly_," he joked. He then reached in and hugged me. "See you tomorrow."

I was still staring after him when he walked away.

[/BPOV]

**

* * *

**

**AN: All right, so the last part may **_**sound**_** mundane and pointless and sudden and stupid and I could go on for a while, but the Bella and James relationship is actually going to be the start of some real action—next chapter.**

**Guess who's at the heart of the action?**

**…**

**AHAHAHA! I pwn you. If you want a spoiler, just review and tell me :D**

**I, personally, am very fond of spoilers XD**

**Until next time!**


	9. Chapter 9: Unexpected

**AN: So I'm…FINALLY…updating, lol. **

**Here it is! **

[BPOV]

"Come on," James said with a smile, beckoning me up the stairs. I grinned and took his hand.

This was James' house—I'd never been this far in until today. We were partners for our science project, and we were working on it this afternoon.

These past three weeks had been the best weeks I'd ever spent with a boyfriend. James was sharp, witty, intelligent—caring, rather defensive, and a gentleman. He'd never even hinted at trying to take advantage of me. We'd never even gone past a few chaste kisses. I'd tried to heed Edward's warning—lecture, I suppose—to me, but never found it necessary. James was everything I'd looked for—and more.

He had taken me to three dates so far. Each time, he'd been responsible and gentlemanly. Carlisle and Esme—well, mostly Esme—were delighted and always welcomed James back again and again. Emmett and Jasper were happy because I'd finally found a guy who could stick around, and sometimes, James would hang out with those two. Finally, this arrangement pleased Rosalie and Alice, because—says Alice—my taste in men had dramatically improved, and everyone was proud of me.

It was a good arrangement for everyone…except Edward.

Edward was never happy these days. He was a moody, depressed presence in the house. He spoke little to anyone, and they spoke little back. What hurt the most, though, was that he tried to avoid me. He avoided eye contact with me, he avoided speaking to me…I knew he was upset with my relationship with James, but it still stung nonetheless.

However, I knew Edward would speak up if he found anything sinister in James' mind—not that he would, of course. To be on the safe side, I always consulted Alice before leaving with James. Every time she would tell me that I would be safe with him, as she did today.

Thus, here I was.

I thumped up the remaining stairs to James' room. "Voila," he said quietly. "Welcome to my humble abode."

It was nothing like I'd expected. I didn't know what I'd expected, as I was never in any of my previous boyfriends' rooms—I'd never been _with_ one of them before; I still had some dignity left—but it definitely wasn't a bright, spacious room like his. There was a mahogany-colored desk pushed in the corner by a window, and his small bed was shoved against the wall. Books were stacked in the left-hand corner, seeming to have waited to be shelved for months now.

"Wasn't what I'd expected," I said quietly.

James' lips curled up at the edges. "What'd you expect, then?" he asked, going to his desk and pulling out supplies for our project. "Me, a regular slob? Really? Sports posters hung haphazardly around the room? Dirty socks on the ground? Come on, now."

I glanced around again. His walls were bare—unusually unadorned.

James glanced at me. "Do you, uh…" He hesitated for a moment, awkwardness momentarily taking over him. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Sure," I replied. He smiled.

"I'll be right back, then."

I waited patiently in his room while he went downstairs. Seeing no chair in sight, I sat on the edge of his bed, mindful that if he came in, he could take this as…well, as a signal of something else.

Presently, I heard his footsteps thumping back up the carpeted stairs. He walked into the room, holding two glasses of what looked like ginger ale. I took one from him. "Thanks," I said.

"No problem," he replied, taking a sip.

I drank out of my cup, too. A corner of my mind sighed in relief—it was just good old ginger ale, with nothing added to it, nothing that would cloud my judgment and give me some very nasty complications. I slid down from the bed onto the soft, carpeted floor and we started to work on the project.

It didn't take me long to notice that something was very, very wrong.

[/BPOV]

*** *** ***

[EPOV]

Alice's head jerked back and she gasped involuntarily.

Not bothering to ask her what was wrong, I plunged into her thoughts.

_James…James, in a rage…James, forcing Bella onto his bed…a cup with its contents spilled onto the carpet…Bella's screams…Bella's struggles…James, slapping her…hitting her…hard…James was forcing Bella…Forcing her to…._

Without another word, I barreled through the front door and was streaking across town.

_My worst fears had come true._

[/EPOV]

*** *** ***

[BPOV]

"What _is_ this?" I demanded, yanking his cup from his hands and sniffing it. A jolt of unexpected terror raced through me as I smelled out an unfamiliar substance—somewhat bitter and familiar.

It was what Charlie's drinks smelled like.

No. It was stronger.

James' strong hand grabbed the cup from me and hurled it against a wall, where it shattered into pieces and the fizzy drink exploded everywhere.

I looked up at his face.

It was the way the sky looks during a thunderstorm. It was so unlike the James I thought I knew—his face was overcome with rage, and something I'd never seen before.

The moment I averted my eyes to look at the cup he'd hurled against the wall, he took his chance.

His body, his strong, tall, muscled body hurled me to the bed.

I opened my mouth to scream, but before any sound could escape me, his mouth was on mine, his lips hard and ungentle, bruising me. I shoved against his chest to no avail—I might as well have been shoving against a boulder.

His fingers fumbled at the hem of my shirt, and in one horrifying moment filled with adrenaline, I lifted my leg and shoved him off me while he was still distracted.

He hissed, rubbing the spot on his abdomen where I'd kicked him. "Ooh, Bella," he said quietly, his eyes narrowing, the dangerous look in his eyes intensifying exponentially by the second. "That was a bad choice to make."

Suddenly, he shoved me against the wall. My head hit the plaster with a sickeningly painful _thump_. Again and again, he shook me, slamming my body against the wall, until I felt bruised all over.

"If you behave," James crooned, running a finger down my cheek, "and don't struggle…this will be a lot less painful."

"Even if I do, you're never going to get away with it," I threatened.

He laughed a loud, mocking laugh. "Really? I'd like to see what, ah, backup you have. Your daddy's not going to be of use," he said, gripping my arms tighter. "A mortician would be better."

I screamed loudly, at the top of my lungs, and he pulled me toward him, ready to slam my head against the wall again.

The impact never came. Instead, his hold loosened, and I collapsed to the ground like a rag doll.

[/BPOV]

*** *** ***

[EPOV]

A feral snarl rose in my throat as I hurled the limp form against the window.

James' body was beginning to bleed by now, but he was still conscious—all the better, he would be feeling the consequences of what he'd tried to do. His mind, so vile and disgusting moments before, was now panicked and terrified. I grabbed him from behind, and relished every crack his bones generated. He screamed out so loudly, in pure pain.

"What goes around comes around," I told him grimly, as I took his head between my hands and pressed hard until it cracked.

As I picked up Bella—unconscious as she was, her breaths were still steady, her heart still beating—I felt a violent sense of pleasure, of justice. It scared me that I was able to obtain such feelings out of killing someone violently, but the feeling was there.

I picked up the pace and hurried Bella back home, for Carlisle to treat.

[/EPOV]

**AN: Phew! Yes, I know it was short, but I really needed a good stopping point, and this was one.**

**Questions? Comments? Concerns? Anything you'd like to add? Please review! :3**


	10. Chapter 10: Summons

**AN: Haha, another update, finally! I'll spare everyone the torture of hearing me list off my various commitments, auditions, job interviews, etc., etc.**

**Let's get on with creeper James, pedophilic Edward, and weak sexual harassment victim Bella!**

**(I enjoy making fun of SM's characters.)**

[BPOV]

Mmh.

Mmm….

James…dinner…hugs and kisses….

His promises to take me to that new park that opened up a few days ago….

Edward….

…Edward?

No…no, the vampire didn't belong. My brother didn't belong with here, with James and me.

Wait….

Or was it James who didn't belong?

No matter.

I dozed off again.

[/BPOV]

[EPOV]

And I watched her.

In her sleep—or, perhaps it would be better described as delirium—she squirmed.

Moved.

Cried out.

Sometimes they were odd phrases, always trailing off. "I remember…," she would sigh. Or, "Of course, you always keep your promises."

And there were names, too. There were two names. _Edward_ and _James_.

I watched, tormented, as she slept restlessly.

Of its own accord, my hand moved to grasp hers, soft and smooth. Her pulse beat strongly, frantically under my fingertips.

Every few minutes, her facial expression would change. Sometimes, it would go lax, wiped clean of emotion. Sometimes, her eyebrows would furrow into that adorable expression, even in unconsciousness, and she would murmur phrases, often unintelligible.

And sometimes, she would scream, her voice laced with fear.

That sound broke my heart, over and over.

Despite it all, I remained, keeping round-the-clock vigil at her side.

Finally, the delirium broke.

I noticed the change: the altered, ragged breaths, the energy that radiated off her, the _life_. I put my hands on her cheeks, seeing them return to color, fresh and pink.

Her eyelids fluttered open.

"Thank God," I breathed fervently, and pressed my lips to hers.

[/EPOV]

[BPOV]

Through a tired, painful haze, I saw his face.

"Thank God," his soft, faraway voice breathed.

And then there was ice.

Ice on my lips?

_His_ lips.

Edward, my foster-brother, was kissing me.

I wanted to lift my arms, to push him away, to ask him what the _hell_ was happening, but my limbs were leaden. All I managed to do was shift them feebly, and groan a sound of protest.

The frigid, heavy pressure lightened, and was gone altogether.

"You're awake now," he breathed.

I blinked, and saw him more clearly. His lash-framed eyes, dangerously dark; the worried set of his eyebrows; his marble-pale face—

"_What the hell?_"

In truth, I hadn't been expecting to say that—the words just sort of busted out on their own.

But something seemed to snap inside him. "What?" he asked, and then burst out, "Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry, that was—"

"Shut. Up." I was beyond cranky—I was in a right proper rage. "What the hell? My boyfriend tries to rape me, and my brother kisses me!" I grasp my hair in a moment of true insanity. "What next? A flying pig?"

He was quiet for a few seconds, before asking quietly, "Should I get Alice?"

"If you don't mind," I answered coolly, my tone clipped. "And you can stay outside, too!"

"Okay." He rose and gracefully glided out the door.

Within seconds, Alice was inside. "I just saw that!" she exclaimed in outrage. "Trust me, I've already given him a beating he'll remember." She perched on the edge of my bed. "How are you feeling? That son of a—but no, that won't help. You got this huge lump on your head, Bella…thankfully, no concussion, but it still looked pretty bad when it started to change colo—" She stopped.

"Are you done?" I asked quietly.

Alice nodded.

"It feels…like a nightmare," I muttered, rubbing my forehead. "The memory is so muddled, so vague. Did he really…?" I picked at the edge of my sheet while asking.

"Not really," Alice said quietly, her gaze intent. "I mean, he obviously had those intentions in mind, but no, he never penetrated you, if that's what you're asking."

Those very words made me blush furiously. "How many days ago?"

"Two," she answered without hesitation.

I grinned, but it felt so fake and painful that I dropped it again. "Two whole days, huh?" I whispered. "No wonder why it felt so far away."

Alice looked down. "I know it's been a lot, and that _jerk_ of a brother didn't help matters much, I assume," she added, glancing sideways at me. "But…I think he _does_ love you."

"Pfft. As if," I mumbled. "I'm no incestuous necrophile."

Alice let out a short, cynical laugh. "Living with us, Bella," she said quietly, "living with vampires, you've gotta be a necrophile."

"Not in _that_ way, though," I protested.

"We don't have to talk about this right now," Alice reassured me, and stood up. "But just remember—he saved your life."

_He saved my life._

_ Edward saved my life._

[/BPOV]

[EPOV]

Alice came downstairs from Bella's room, and shot me a death glare, making me wince slightly.

"Guess I shouldn't have done that, huh?" I muttered, but she heard me anyway.

"You _guess_, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen," she retorted, using my full name. "Do you think _any_ girl would take to being woken up from a near-rape experience by a kiss from her _brother_?!"

"I'm not her—"

"Oh, same difference," she huffed. "Be grateful that I didn't point out the _brother_ is a hundred-odd years old, and undead."

"You just did."

"Oh, so you really want to—"

Esme broke up our bickering. "If you'd like to continue your quarrel rather than read this…summons from the Volturi, be my guest," she said, a bite of sarcasm in her voice.

That shut us up. _Parenting magazines _do_ work_, she thought smugly.

I sighed. "What is it?" I asked.

"It's what I'm getting to," she murmured, ripped open the benign-looking envelope, and unfolded the letter.

_To the Cullen clan:_

_ It has come to my attention that a human child is being harbored in your home. It has also been revealed that she is an object of strong attraction, mortal and otherwise, for Edward Anthony Masen, one of your members. I will enjoy an audience with your coven—perhaps, save the young one—come the start of winter._

_ Aro_

_ Marcus_

_ Caius_

Also enclosed were six plane tickets, to Italy.

_Oh, dear_, Esme sighed. _No return tickets? This could take a while._

I sighed, slipping in a chuckle. "Took them long enough, too," I murmured.

"The start of winter is in two days," Alice whispered. _But we'll get there in time,_ she added silently and smugly.

"Save the young one?" Esme muttered. _I bet that's Edward,_ she concluded, frowning. _They wouldn't want anything with Bella anyway—except maybe to tell her of her death._

Oh, for the love of God…!

Tensions were strong enough as it was…and to leave Bella and me alone? For however long the Volturi chose to detain the rest. Part of me rejoiced, leapt in happiness at the thought of just the two of us.

And, of course, there was the part of me that went, _Oh, no. No. Nononono! She already hates me!_

I was still waging my internal war against myself when Alice's wide eyes focused on me, eerie and searching, and turned back to Esme. "That sounds like a good idea."

Her eyes narrowed, she shot a glare at me. _Try anything and _die_, you creep._

I just rolled my eyes at her.

[/EPOV]

[BPOV]

They left.

They left so suddenly, it seemed as if scarcely any time had passed from when I was called downstairs to be notified of this…till now.

And I was alone with Edward.

He turned to me with an awkward expression, one which implied that he wanted to say something—serious.

"Bella, I'm sorry, I really, really am," he said quietly as we headed back into the house. "I never meant to—it just happened, you know? It just—"

"Ugh, I don't want to _hear_ it!" I snapped, interrupting rudely. "It doesn't even matter anymore, okay? It doesn't. Freaking. Matter! So you can just stop trying to apologize all the time and stop acting all awkward and just leave me the hell alone!"

He was quiet.

Too quiet.

Stunned silence, almost.

When he finally spoke, it was quiet and subdued. "All right," he said. "I'll try to make myself scarce, then."

"Good!" I fumed.

I stomped upstairs.

He held true to his word—I barely even saw his shadow that night, except for when he made me dinner. By the time night had rolled around, I was beginning to feel an immense pang of guilt.

_Guilt,_ I thought despairingly. And _he_ was the one who'd…who'd….

"Oh, shut _up_," I muttered to myself, fully aware that he could hear me.

The next morning, I woke up and upon padding downstairs, found Edward standing in the middle of the kitchen.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm going hunting," he said smoothly. "I don't know when I'll be back."

"Yeah, okay," I murmured, opening the refrigerator to retrieve the carton of milk.

The next second, he was gone.

"Well," I said to myself. "What now?"

Obviously, I wasn't going to haul myself to the dreary little high school at 11:24 a.m….as much as I wanted to hear the rumors circulating around James and me.

Small town, small world.

I turned on the TV, but there was nothing of interest. I flopped myself down across the couch and….

Well, I _think_ I was beginning to doze off, but the sound of the phone—_my _phone—ringing instantly woke me up.

I reached over on the counter and hit the green, glowing button.

_Unknown._

"Hello…?"

There was a pause, a pregnant, unnatural pause. Then:

"This is Bella? Bella Cullen?"

"Yes, it's me," I answered, puzzled.

The voice on the other end hesitated once again. "I am Demetri—perhaps you've heard of me."

"The only Demetri I've heard of is Dmitri Kabalevsky," I muttered.

Another pause, and a short, forced chuckle. "Good one. Okay, I'll get to the point."

"Please do."

"You see, I work for the Volturi." Before I had time to concoct an audible response, he barged on. "Your little friend Alice here, and her—and your, I suppose—coven, has been, ah, detained."

"Wha—"

"But I owe her a favor," the voice plowed on without reprieve. "And so I'm passing onto you this message.

My hands were, suddenly, dry and cold. "What message?"

"Come to Italy and seek the Volturi."

By this point, I was thoroughly bewildered. "Seek the Volturi? How? Why? Did she lose her mind?"

"Hah. No." By this point, Demetri's voice had grown softer. "It concerns your foster-brother? Edward, that's it."

Edward? "He's out hunting," I argued.

"Alice says he's not."

"But I don't even know how to buy tickets!"

"I've already bought them for you, as another favor to her," he answered. "Go to one of the information desks at Sea-Tac and tell them you're Code 54184A2YP. That's your ticket code."

"Let me write it down…." I frantically grabbed around on the counter and scribbled the code on my arm with a Sharpie.

"Thanks," I answered. "Wait…you sure you're not just trying to lure me to Italy to become dessert?"

He snorted, the first sign of real emotion. "Of course not. Thanks for your wonderful trust in me, you know. And hurry. Your flight's at two in the afternoon."

I hung up and threw my phone into my coat pocket, donned my coat, and headed out.

And of course, I had lost all rational thought and was only focused on one undying, glowing, and rather absurd goal: Edward.

**AN: First...yes, I resubmitted it, because I noticed I used "necrophiliac", not "necrophile". Asian perfectionism, sigh. XD**

**Such a lame ending, I know. How else? **_**I've**_** never left a home on two hours' notice to go to Italy….but anyway. Hope you liked it ^-^**

**OH, and it's chapter 10! Yay-ah! Took me a while to get here though -____-" but hey, chapter 10's chapter 10, right? Lol. **

**Review! **


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